






































SCHOOL AND COLLEGE 
STORIES 

By 

NORMAN BRAINERD 

Illustrated 

WINNING HIS SHOULDER STRAPS 
WINNING THE EAGLE PRIZE 
WINNING THE JUNIOR CUP 
THE CADET SERGEANT 


LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON 












In two powerful strokes he was beside a struggling 

BOY. —Page 113 . 








i 

The Cadet Sergeant 


By 


NORMAN BRAINERD 


Illustrated by 

HAROLD CUE 



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BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 

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Copyright, 1930, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 

All Bights Reserved 

The Cadet Sergeant 



* 

* > • 



Printed in U. S. A. 


SEP 19 1930 

©CIA 27 5 98 C/ *V 




To my Son , 

John Peters Fuller, 

This book is affectionately dedicated 
By the Author, 

S. R. Fuller, Jr., 

<( Norman Brainerd JJ 





From a letter of 

John Chatham, 

Founder of 

the Chatham Military School. 

Dated January 2I+, 1852 . 

“ I would like a school where boys can have 
plenty of play, self-government, and study; where 
manliness of heart and mind are its highest 
teachings: that they always may live coura¬ 
geously, loyally, cheerfully. Hence I would be 
happy should the motto of this new School be: 

FORTITERFIDELITER, FELICITER” 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

A Challenge. 

. 13 

II. 

Fight Clouds. 

. 23 

III. 

A Mess-Hall Bully 

. 35 

IV. 

The New Cadet’s Story . 

. 50 

V. 

John H. Hayes Turns Actor 

. 65 

VI. 

In the Gym. 

. 77 

VII. 

The Battle of the Giants . 

. 88 

VIII. 

The Power-House .... 

. 97 

IX. 

Against the Rack .... 

. 113 

X. 

The Graylock Game .... 

. 122 

XI. 

To Fatty Williams’ Alcove . 

. 135 

XII. 

Trousers and Toes .... 

. 147 

XIII. 

A Blighted Being .... 

. 159 

XIV. 

Smashing the Dance 

. 172 

XV. 

The High Court .... 

. 179 

XVI. 

Myron Condemned .... 

. 191 

XVII. 

A Boy Disappears .... 

. 204 

XVIII. 

The Top-Men Contest . 

. 217 

XIX. 

The Porcupine. 

. 231 

XX. 

Old House. 

. 242 


9 






IO 


CONTENTS 


XXI. 

Mutiny. 

256 

XXII. 

Bingo. 

264 

XXIII. 

St. James Attacks. 

277 

XXIV. 

The Military Tournament . 

287 

XXV. 

Single Combat. 

298 

XXVI. 

FORT ITER, FIDE LITER, FELICI - 



TER .311 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


In two powerful strokes he was beside 

a struggling boy (Page 113) . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

“ I tell you now I’m going to lick you ” . .22 

“ Fellows, I hereby resign from Old House ” . 254 

Myron’s right arm shot forward . . . 310 


11 


♦ 




The Cadet Sergeant 


CHAPTER I 

A CHALLENGE 

Whirr . . . r-r-r . . . Whang! 

A football landed squarely between the shoul¬ 
ders of John H. Hayes. 

“ Wow! Ouch! Have a heart! ” Johnny swung 
around. “ That was some pass, Porky! Are you 
going to try to do all the passing this fall? ” 

“ That’s what a good right half-back is for,” 
laughed Porky Taylor from thirty yards away. 

“ All muscle! No brains! ” scoffed Johnny as 
he came up to Porky. 

“ Listen, Cuckoo,” said Porky; “ what’s all the 
row about? ” He pointed toward a group of 
gesticulating cadets from which his pass had 
drawn Johnny. 

“ It’s bad business, I’m afraid,” confided 
Johnny, sotto voce. “ St. James Durham has 
just challenged us for another competitive year.” 

13 


i 4 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Fine! ” grinned Porky as Ms blue eyes 
danced and bis coarse tow bair bristled in tbe 
sun of tbe late September afternoon. “We ought 
to clean up on them this year! That one point 
they won by last time wasn’t so much. What’s 
wrong with that bunch over there? ” 

“Nothing: only St. James wants us for foot¬ 
ball and a Military and Single Combat Tourna¬ 
ment for June: same as last year,” continued 
Johnny; “ but Bingo may not let us accept; not 
for football, anyway. They say he thinks the 
game is over-emphasized or something! ” 

“ Aw, ballywhizzle! ” sneered Porky, who was 
an optimist, at least when in his football togs. 
“ Bingo’ll accept.” 

“ But I tell you it’s bad,” persisted Johnny. 
“We’re all Old House men together; aren’t we? 
All the real fellows in this school: including 
Myron Angus, Fred Barclay, Schoharie, you,— 
and your humble servant who speaketh with thee. 
Well, then, Fred Barclay as captain of the team 
is siding with Bingo! All the fellows in that 
gang over there are not only sore at Bingo, but 
they’re sore as blazes at Fred! And Myron 
Angus is sorest of them all!” 

Porky Taylor gazed a little more respectfully 


A CHALLENGE 


iS 


into the big blue eyes of his long-drawn-out chum, 
who stood before him in the cadet gray uniform 
of the Chatham Military School. 

“ Maybe you have a mighty dome at that, 
John/’ he chuckled, “ but don’t worry; that chal¬ 
lenge will be accepted. Bingo Crawford is Presi¬ 
dent of this old Institution; but he knows what’s 
what.” 

“ Sure it’ll be accepted,” replied Johnny, “ and 
then the fight’ll be on to see who’ll represent the 
school in most of the Single Combats. Nobody’ll 
have a chance but Fred Barclay and Myron 
Angus. It’ll be between the two of them.” 

“ There are only three Single Combat events: 
gymnastics, wrestling, and boxing,” said Porky, 
his blue eyes shining. “ Either one of ’em could 
win all three against those St. James dubs.” 

“ Don’t know about that,” returned Johnny, 
remembering that one decisive point of last year; 
“ their good men are not all dead yet. But I do 
know that Fred and Myron will both go out for 
everything against each other; and they’re the 
only real competitors for next year’s Senior 
Captaincy, too. It’s going to be no good for Old 
House or the school, either, if that pair fight like 
a couple of wildcats.” 


16 THE CADET SERGEANT 


As a reply, Porky Taylor stuck out his massive 
chest and cracked it with his two mighty fists. 
“ Take a swat at that, Johnny!” he chuckled 
again. “ Fd like to go after that Lovering Hall 
Club crowd and lick ’em up; especially Case, 
Tibbotts, and Richards A. That would settle 
things; wouldn’t it? They’ll be the ones who’ll 
try to egg Fred on against Myron, just to see a 
scrap started inside Old House. You wait and 
see what you’ll see! ” 

John Hayes roared. u The athlete has brains! ” 
Then he confided: “ Fred is one of the nicest fel¬ 
lows in Chatham, but he sure is susceptible to 
flattery! ” Johnny ran a long red hand through 
his blond hair. 

Once again Porky Taylor chuckled. A pros¬ 
pect of physical combat, with his own sturdy 
body in the thick of it, was music to his ears. 

The two watched closely the warring crowd in 
front of them. 

“Where’s Myron?” asked Porky. 

“ Just went up to put on his football togs for 
practice,” muttered Johnny. “ Look at Fred 
Barclay in there; the big chump, shooting off his 
face. If he doesn’t watch his step, that Lovering 
Hall bunch will kid him into doing anything on 


A CHALLENGE 


17 

earth to beat Myron, regardless of Old House 
or the school! ” 

Old House, like its rival Lovering Hall, con¬ 
tained nearly thirty members; so both clubs nat¬ 
urally were divided into groups within them¬ 
selves. 

Porky Taylor, or Taylor W, as was his proper 
designation, and Johnny Hayes were in the 
fourth form, and therefore had before them two 
more years of school. Their particular chums 
were two other fourth-formers: Myron Angus, 
and a young gentleman named Schoharie, who 
was the Silent Man of Chatham. These four had 
endured together many vicissitudes of fortune; 
hence though as members of Old House with Fred 
Barclay their loyalty to Fred was great, their 
loyalty to each other was far greater. 

“ Aw, rats! ” shouted a voice suddenly, in the 
group of tongue-battlers before them. “ You give 
me a pain! ” 

Porky and Johnny Hayes started into the 
crowd; but as they began to elbow their way 
through, a well-set-up, stocky chap, with an ex¬ 
pressionless face, a pale skin, and keen dark 
eyes, faced them and took them back again to a 
considerable distance. 


18 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ What’s happened, Sco?” asked Porky 
quickly. 

“ Give us the latest, Silent! ” demanded 
J ohnny. 

Schoharie, the Silent Man of Chatham, ac¬ 
knowledged the greetings with a nod but no 
words. He promptly locked his hands behind his 
back; stood with heels tightly together and stared 
before him until the other two could endure the 
strain no longer. 

“ Hey, hey,” commanded Porky, 66 come 
across.” 

“ Yes, Sco, for the love of Mike,” added 
J ohnny. 

Then only did Schoharie the Silent speak. 

But before his words flow forth, let us explain 
something of the venerable hall of learning which 
was attended by these boys. The Chatham Mili¬ 
tary School was situated two miles north of what 
was once the village of Chatham, now part of 
the City of Niagara Falls, on the west side of the 
Old River Road, which runs between the Falls of 
Niagara and the town of Lewiston. 

The cadet organization was a battalion of in¬ 
fantry, composed of about one hundred and 
twenty-five officers and men. It was divided into 


A CHALLENGE 


i9 

companies A and B, and a band. The cadet of¬ 
ficers, under the Faculty, maintained the disci¬ 
pline of the school, and were of two classes: the 
commissioned, wffiich included captains and first 
and second lieutenants, and the non-commis¬ 
sioned, which included the sergeants and cor¬ 
porals. The captain of Company A was known 
as the Senior Captain, regardless of his form in 
the school; the captain of Company B in the same 
way was known as the Junior Captain. The 
Senior Captaincy was therefore the highest office 
of the school, and the Junior Captaincy was the 
next. 

The cadet battalion itself was under the com¬ 
mand of the school Commandant, Colonel 
Thomas Jefferson Meadows: “ T. J.”, as he had 
been known to all Chatham cadets since the far- 
off days of Bob Anderson, who fought so hard in 
“ Winning his Shoulder Straps.” 

At the end of the school year, all non-commis¬ 
sioned officers were appointed by the President 
and Commandant to fill the vacancies which 
would occur in the following fall; and, since the 
Great War, even all commissioned officers were 
appointed in this manner. 

During the particular year of which we are 


20 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


writing, all the commissioned officers except Fred 
Barclay, who was the second lieutenant of Com¬ 
pany A, were in the sixth form, and so would not 
return to school the following fall. Fred was in 
the fifth form; Myron Angus, as has been said, 
was in the fourth form. Myron was first ser¬ 
geant of Company A and so next in rank to Fred 
Barclay. 

Fred Barclay was eighteen years old, and be¬ 
cause he was captain of the football team, and 
because of his general ability as a leader, he was 
one of the most powerful men in Chatham, and 
under ordinary circumstances, one of the nicest. 

Myron Angus was seventeen. He had been at 
Chatham for four years; had become imbued with 
its military spirit, and had determined to make 
his career in the Army. Hence he had announced, 
rather undiplomatically, possibly, though very 
honorably, that he purposed to try to do so well 
in his work that he would be chosen in June for 
the next year’s Senior Captaincy. Likewise, be¬ 
cause he was ambitious and courageous it was 
certain that he would try with all his power to be 
a Top Man, who would represent the school in as 
many Single Combat Contests as he could, should 
the St. James Durham challenge be accepted. 


A CHALLENGE 


21 


Let us return now to our three cadets near that 
excited group of Chathamites on the school cam¬ 
pus. 

“Fred was pussyfooting about Bingo Craw¬ 
ford and football, Porky, when Myron came right 
out before the whole gang and told Fred he 
should be ashamed of himself,” said Schoharie 
the Silent in a monotone and almost inaudibly. 
“ Myron told Fred also that as captain of the 
team he should stick up for his own game; go to 
Bingo—tell him we want to take on St. James 
with football as well as everything else; and that 
this stuff about over-emphasis is the bunk.” 
Schoharie the Silent yawned as though bored. 
“Well, you know, Johnny, the way Fred went 
back at Myron hot and heavy, all right,” he con¬ 
cluded after a moment. 

“ I should say yes,” said Johnny. 

“ I just got into the scrap myself,” went on the 
Silent Man in his low voice. “ I told Fred that 
his weakness always has been that he tries to 
curry favor.” 

“Whew!” whistled Johnny. “ That’s one of 
those little things that your brainy playmate 
John H. Hayes here is not going to tell Fred 
Barclay.” 


22 THE CADET SERGEANT 

The two athletic members of the trio merely 
gave Johnny a scornful glance. 

“ How do you think it’s going to end, Sco? ” 
asked Porky after a moment. 

“ That if Myron Angus gets funny with Bar¬ 
clay, he will get the worst licking any man ever 
got at Chatham,” replied the stony-visaged one. 

“ Spoken like the strong and silent man you 
are,” breathed Johnny Hayes with an affected 
shiver. “ And you fellows can worry, too, about 
St. James Durham, football, Top-Men Contests 
and next June’s Senior Captaincy, or anything 
else you like. But me, being a non-athletic guy 
of wisdom, me, Sco: if I were in your place, or 
Myron’s, I’d be worrying about Fred Barclay’s 
mighty fists.” 

“Maybe I am,” vouchsafed Schoharie with a 
momentary though quickly controlled flash in his 
dark eyes. “ Look who is coming up to us now! ” 



“I TELL YOU NOW I’M GOING TO LICK YOU. ’ ’— Page 23. 



































































































































































































CHAPTER II 


FIGHT CLOUDS 

“ I didn't think you’d do that to me, Sco,” said 
Fred Barclay quickly as he stopped before Scho¬ 
harie the Silent. “ And if you do it again, I 
tell you now I’m going to lick you.” 

“ Don’t wait if you feel that way,” replied 
Schoharie. “ Try it this minute.” 

The Silent Man of Chatham slowly looked the 
fine athlete before him up and down. Fred Bar¬ 
clay was about five feet ten in height, weighed 
one hundred and seventy-five pounds, had broad 
shoulders, an easy carriage, a well-shaped head. 
And to-day his tight gray cadet blouse wdth the 
bronze second lieutenant’s knob on each shoul¬ 
der, set off markedly his deep chest and muscular 
hands and arms. 

“ No; we’ll let it go that way,” replied Fred at 
length. 

“ Look here, Fred,” put in Porky Taylor sud¬ 
denly, “ we’re Old House men, all of us, includ¬ 
ing Angus. Let’s forget it all, and you and My¬ 
ron make it up; will you? ” 

23 


24 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


Fred Barclay’s brown eyes grew wide. “ I’m 
captain of the team, Porky,” he answered bel¬ 
ligerently, “ and you and Sco and Angus are on 
it. Well, Bingo’s still President of this school. 
And I know what he wants. That’s my business. 
As to Angus: Old House, or no Old House, that 
fellow is going to behave himself so far as he 
touches me; or I’ll know why! ” 

“ Do you think we’ll accept St. James’s chal¬ 
lenge, Fred?” asked Johnny Hayes in a low 
voice, and as oil upon raging waters. 

“You’ll find out probably, if you wait long 
enough.” 

With that, Fred Barclay left his friends and 
started through the pines that skirted the cam¬ 
pus toward the main building, which he was seen 
to enter by the door which led to the President’s 
office. 

“Fists,” murmured Johnny as Fred disap¬ 
peared. “ Fists with great big knuckles on 
them.” 

“ Like the bones in your head! ” whipped out 
Porky. 

“ Righto! ” added Schoharie the Silent, as a 
slight smile flitted across his thin lips. 

“ There you’ve got it, lads! ” chuckled Porky. 


FIGHT CLOUDS 


25 


His blue eyes sparkled as lie expanded bis mas¬ 
sive chest and bumped it against the long-drawn- 
out Johnny, nearly knocking that gentleman 
over. 

“ Go easy there. You may think this is a 
joke,” protested Johnny. “ But it isn’t.” 

“ What is it? Gloom and murder? ” demanded 
Porky in glee and danced a yard or two back¬ 
ward. 

“ I’m going up and get into my football 
clothes,” put in Schoharie. “ See you at practice 
in a few minutes, Porky.” 

“ I’m going right up to see Myron,” announced 
Johnny Hayes with determination as the Silent 
Man left them. “ Fred Barclay makes me sick.” 

“ Fred’s like a bear with a sore nose,” chuckled 
Porky as they started off together. “ Looks like 
real business, though, before we’re through! ” 

“ Oh, Angus! Oh, Myron Angus! ” bawled 
Johnny and Porky as they reached the main 
building of the school, their heads turned up¬ 
ward to a window on the third floor. “ Oh, 
Angus!” 

jNTo answer. 

“ He’s probably putting on squeaky shoes and 
can’t hear,” pronounced Porky. 


26 THE CADET SERGEANT 

The building before which they stood a moment 
was of gray stone, with its ancient walls ivy-cov¬ 
ered up to its mansard roof. To the left of it 
was a wing, known as Downing Hall, in which, 
on the lower floor, was the Armory, and on the 
upper floor were boys’ sleeping-rooms. Beyond, 
and connected to Downing Hall, was the Chapel 
building, which held on the second floor the 
Chapel and on the ground floor the School Room, 
the Piety recitation-room of Old Hank, (Mr. 
Hankey, more correctly,) “ Church ” Bell’s Eng¬ 
lish room, and the Commandant’s abattoir for 
protesting students of mathematics. 

Myron Angus w r as in charge of Dormitory H 
on the third floor of the main building; and his 
alcove on the corner overlooked by an east win¬ 
dow the Gym and campus, and by a south win¬ 
dow the drive directly below and the deep pine- 
skirted lawn beyond the drive. 

Porky Taylor and Johnny Hayes wasted no 
time on that wide drive before the main building. 
“ Myron isn’t going to answer,” concluded the 
latter as Porky and he peered up at their friend’s 
south window. “ Come on up.” 

The two ran down the walk and around the 
corner of the main building; entered the school 


FIGHT CLOUDS 


27 


through the Armory doorway; hopped up the 
three flights of stairs, two steps at a time, and 
hurried into Dormitory H. 

“ Angus! Oh, Angus! ” they continued to call. 

A smiling, black-haired, black-eyed boy, with 
high cheek-bones, a rather low forehead, and full 
lips, suddenly appeared in the doorway of the 
alcove at the far end of the Dormitory. “ Hello, 
you two/’ he exclaimed laughingly, his red cheeks 
aglow. “ Great Scott, you’re yowling loud 
enough to drown out the Falls! ” 

The three entered an alcove, about ten feet 
long by six feet wide, with a window on the right 
and a window at the end. The walls were of wood 
painted gray, and they extended to within three 
feet of the ceiling. A small built-in closet with 
two drawers was directly opposite the doorway 
and next to the east window. A narrow military 
iron cot, which stood at the left of the doorway, 
and one chair completed the furniture. Pictures 
of last year’s football team, of Myron’s sister 
Peggy, of General Pershing, and of Sue Carroll 
made up the decorations. 

It was in this very alcove, tradition ran, that 
Old House had been founded years before by the 
Big Five; and actually Old House was known a 


28 THE CADET SERGEANT 


long time as the Fivers’ Club, until the name was 
considered ridiculous for a Club which always 
contained more than twenty members; and so 
the Fivers had changed their name to Old House. 

“ All out, football practice! ” came from the 
drive. 

Myron Angus grinned as he pulled on his 
sweat-shirt. “ Got to hustle. Was just in 
‘ Church ’ Bell’s room trying to borrow an Eng¬ 
lish book.” 

Myron was a well-put-together lad. He was 
five feet, nine and three-quarters inches tall; 
weighed one hundred and sixty-five pounds; he 
had a deep chest which tapered into a thin waist; 
his hips were fairly light, and he possessed 
strong, well-modeled legs. But the great breadth 
of his shoulders and his powerful arms and hands 
with long black hair on them were what struck 
most fellows so forcibly, and proclaimed Myron 
to be the splendid athlete that he was. In truth, 
he was a fine gymnast; a first-rate wrestler and 
boxer; a good right end. 

Because he was also square and plucky, he was 
as popular as any man in school. The boys al¬ 
ways looked up to him in admiration. His face 


FIGHT CLOUDS 


29 


was quite heavily bearded, and blue showed dis¬ 
tinctly under his skin, even when closely shaven. 

“ Boy,” began Porky, “old John H. Hayes 
here and I think you are in it, up to your neck¬ 
tie—unless you take a tumble to yourself.” 

“ The first point is, Myron,” broke in Johnny: 
“Ho you think the St. James challenge will be 
accepted? ” 

“ Sure I do,” replied Myron with an inquiring 
look at both of his chums. “What do you fel¬ 
lows think? ” 

Johnny and Porky said that they thought so, 
too. 

“ Then if you keep on fighting with Fred,” con¬ 
tinued Porky, “you’ll knock your chances for 
the Senior Captaincy next June into a cocked 
hat, or my name’s not Taylor.” 

And Johnny broke in by telling Myron of what 
Fred had said to them on the campus. “ You and 
Fred ought to be careful, Myron. Porky and I 
both think that the Lovering Hall fellows, such 
as George Case, Tibbotts, and that crowd, will 
line up with Fred to beat you in anything you 
try, just to make trouble in Old House.” 

Myron laughed; threw a sweater across his 
shoulders and tugged at the belt of his football 



THE CADET SERGEANT 


30 

trousers. Lovering Hall with its thirty members 
was no mean opponent! 

“ Maybe the Durham challenge won’t be ac¬ 
cepted, anyway,” he replied. “ Then that w r ould 
end that.” 

“ Won’t be accepted? ” declaimed Johnny. 
“ Listen to those ginks down there now! ” 

Mingled with the cries of “All out, football 
practice! ” could be heard the low murmur of 
the angry mob. 

“ They’ve come back from the campus,” ex¬ 
plained Johnny, “ and are in front of Bingo’s 
office this minute.” 

Myron’s countenance lighted up as he put his 
hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “ Suppose the chal¬ 
lenge is accepted, old fellow? ” he smiled. “ What 
harm will it do? I think it would be the best 
thing in the world for the school. We’d all get 
together then and lick the daylights out of Dur¬ 
ham. And Johnny, don’t worry. Nobody is go¬ 
ing to pull any mean stuff. The men here are 
too good for that. If I win in anything, I win; 
and if I lose, I lose; it’ll all be part of the game.” 

But Johnny Hayes was dubious. Porky, how¬ 
ever, with his mighty fist, poked Myron in the 
chest. “ Come on,” he exclaimed playfully; “ let’s 


FIGHT CLOUDS 


3 i 

shove the noses of the old scrub team into a cou¬ 
ple of tons of mud this afternoon, and get ready 
for the battles of the season! ” 

“ Fred is one of the finest men who ever lived,” 
declared Myron as a few minutes later the three 
moved through the crowd in front of the main 
building and on out to the football field. “ He's 
just hot under the collar now, but he doesn't 
mean half he says.” 

“ Try some passing, Angus, please.” 

“ Right there,” answered Myron. 

It was Fred Barclay, the captain of the team, 
who had called. 

“ That guy Angus is such a blamed good fel¬ 
low, he's an easy mark,” commented Johnny as 
Myron left. 

“ Oh, he's no barnyard dove for a hen hawk to 
gobble,” returned Porky. “ Get that out of your 
head, John. So long! I'm going to get into that 
practice, too.” 

And Johnny cogitated gloomily while from 

the side lines during a long hour he watched the 

* 

scrub swallow its “ couple of tons of mud ” for 
the benefit of “ The Team ” and the glory of the 
school. 

“ To-morrow at four, men! ” cried out Fred 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


32 

Barclay as the practice ended. “ Montgomery 
will be here to coach us.” 

As the perspiring players moved off the field 
toward the school and showers, Fred Barclay and 
Myron remained alone together near the goal¬ 
posts. 

“ I thought I ought to tell you, Angus, before 
the others know it, because we’re Old House men 
together and had that row this afternoon, Bingo 
Crawford has accepted the St. James challenge. 
But he wants the school to quit football.” 

“ Accepted St. James’s challenge, and he cuts 
out football after that challenge has been re¬ 
ceived? ” exclaimed Myron Angus as he gazed 
into the big brown eyes of the man in front of 
him. 

“ I didn’t say that! ” replied Barclay. “ I said 
that Bingo wants the school to quit football; he 
hasn’t ordered it yet.” 

“ Oh, I see,” said Myron. 

“ But I think he’s right just the same, as I 
told you before,” continued Fred. “ Didn’t we 
have a fellow nearly killed last year? I guess if 
you’d been lying on your back all winter with 
your spine out of gear like old Tim Masters, 
you’d think differently.” 


FIGHT CLOUDS 


33 


Myron Angus made no answer to the argu¬ 
ments ; instead he asked in a friendly tone: “ If 
football is to be stopped, Fred, why is Mont¬ 
gomery coming to coach us? ” 

“ You’re too fresh,” snapped Fred as he stepped 
closer to Myron and colored darkly. “ You’re 
openly out for the Senior Captaincy; and they 
say to-day you’re openly going out to beat me in 
everything in the Top-Men Contest.” Fred 
paused and drew a deep breath as though the 
better to keep control of himself. 

“ Is either of those ambitions a crime, Fred? ” 
inquired Myron without flinching. “ Whatever I 
get, I only want straight.” 

“ If that’s the way you look at it then,” an¬ 
swered Fred, “ you’ve cast the die. And you’ve 
got to lick me, young fellow, right through the 
Contest. Do you understand that? And that 
goes for winning the Senior Captaincy, too! ” 

“ I don’t mind trying either in the least,” re¬ 
plied Myron honestly. “ I don’t like a row with 
you, though, Fred. After all, it’s all only fair 
competition. If you whip me in everything, 
that’ll be all right. But I’m going to give you 
the best run I know how.” 

Fred Barclay’s lips closed tightly in anger. 


34 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Well, it’s not likely we’ll have any one else 
against us, anyway! ” he declared. “ And so 
far as I go, the fight’ll be fair. The poorer man 
takes his licking; and it’ll be a good one. That 
suits you; doesn’t it?” 

“ It does,” answered Myron Angus firmly. 
“ But we don’t want to forget, either, that our 
main object is to beat Durham; not each other.” 
“ I won’t, Holy.” 

“Nor I,” answered Myron Angus, his own 
color now rising swiftly from neck to face. 


CHAPTER III 


A MESS-HALL BULLY 

“ Porky, when my dad decided to send me to 
Chatham he said to me: ‘ John, you’re such a fine 
military-looking chap and have such a soldierly 
bearing that you’d do credit to any army ’; but 
he didn’t tell me a thing about all this work to 
clean up St. James Durham in this blinking old 
Military Tournament. No, no, not papa ! ” John 
H. Hayes mopped his w T et, hot brow; threw off his 
cadet blouse; and flopped on to the cot in his 
alcove. 

It was three days after the encounter between 
Fred Barclay and Myron Angus. No formal 
announcement yet had been made of the accept¬ 
ance of the St. James challenge; but John H. 
Hayes had noticed that no football practice had 
been called that afternoon and that the battalion 
drill on the campus had been unusually heavy, 
even for a Monday. 

“An eight-pound rifle, sonny, carried for two 
hours on one’s youthful shoulders is no picnic! ” 
he went on. 


35 


36 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ No muscle, no brains, either,” mocked Porky. 

“ No strength I suppose, too,” responded 
Johnny. “ Don’t you know that the strongest 
guys in the world are divided into two classes, 
Porky: those with muscle, and those without? ” 

“ I suppose you’re one of the kind without it,” 
grinned Porky. 

“ Sure I am. And I’ll tell you something else,” 
continued John without blushing. “ I feel sorry 
for any fellow who has to work with his uncouth 
hands the way Fred and old Myron Angus will 
have to just to be a Top Man for the honor of the 
school in those Single Combat Contests. And to 
be Senior Captain! Think: drills and drills and 
drills; can’t get caught smoking; got to study all 
the time; got to do everything right. ‘ Non pour 
moi! as they say in gay Paree. This competi¬ 
tive spirit is all left out of your little Johnny. 
What is this big life for, anyway? ” 

“ What is it for? ” asked Porky who was now 
beginning to think he’d stood about all that was 
necessary. 

“Ah, that’s it! It’s for the intellectual arts, 
you bonehead,” quoth Johnny sagely. “ Arts that 
are gifts, me lad; no blinking work required. 
Arts like acting and singing as thus.” Johnny 


A MESS-HALL BULLY 


37 


opened Ms big mouth wide and therefrom came 
forth on an ascending scale: “Do, Re, Mi, Fa, 
Sol, La, Si, Do! ” And on a descending one: 
“ Do, Si, La, Sol, Fa, Mi, Re, Do! Do! ho! ho! 
ho!” 

Bing! Johnny dodged a book. 

“ Get up off that bed, you singing chromo! ” 
thundered Porky. 

But Johnny remained prostrate, his twinkling 
eyes watchful. “ Say, Pork, how’d you get your 
name, anyway? Short for Porcupine? Was it 
on account of your bristly tow hair wMch sticks 
up on your bean like quills on that fretful ani¬ 
mal?” 

“ Get up off that bed! ” again roared the Por¬ 
cupine, as fiendish glee shone in his little blue 
eyes. “ Get up before thou diest where thou liest 
like the dog thou art! ” And Porky Taylor, with 
chest expanded and arms out began to dance in 
front of Johnny so that when that worthy did get 
up there would be no escape. 

Johnny now arose quickly as the better part 
of safety. “ Mercy! Mercy! Mercy! ” he laughed. 

“ Mercy your eye! ” chortled Porky. Then he 
butted Johnny with his mighty chest; and butted 
him again and again, roaring and prancing be- 


38 THE CADET SERGEANT 

fore him until he cornered poor Johnny and 
drove his back against the alcove wall. “ Make 
obeisance! ” he commanded, and entangled the 
fingers of both his wicked hands in Johnny’s long- 
blond hair. “ Make obeisance! And say: ‘ Porky, 
I’m sorry; and I’ll never insult Porky so cruelly 
again! ’ Say it, you dumb-bell! ” And Porky 
yanked at Johnny’s hair: “ Say it! ” 

Whereat the helpless Johnny, perforce, re¬ 
peated midst laughter and protests: “ Porky, I’m 
sorry; and I’ll never insult you so cruelly again 
—you dumb-bell! ” 

“You what?” yelled Porky, and yanked 
harder at Johnny’s hair. 

“ That’s what you said I should say! ” came 
back the redoubtable Johnny from under Porky’s 
paws. 

“ I did, eh? Take it back! ” 

“ I take it back, Porcupine,” repeated the now 
weakening Johnny H. 

“No Porcupine, either: just Porky! ” 

“ All right: Porky,” agreed Johnny. 

“ And admit further,” demanded Porky, “ that 
you are within me mighty power; and that your 
brains are as weak as your brawn! Admit it, I 
say! ” 


A MESS-HALL BULLY 


39 

John H. Hayes was forced to admit all, to the 
great delectation of his chum. 

Just then the bugler blew “ first call ” for sup¬ 
per ! 

“ Whew! ” Johnny and Porky started to wash 
up. “ And all for Honor’s sake! ” the former 
gasped out as an ending shot. 

The schedule of business at Chatham was 
much as at other Military Schools: “ reveille ” 
by the bugler roused the cadets at seven a. m. ; 
“ first call ” and later u assembly ” took them 
into breakfast by seven-thirty; Chapel was at 
eight; classes and study from nine o’clock until 
one; then dinner; and in the afternoon was drill, 
either in the Manual of Arms or company, and 
battalion drill, or any, or all three. In fine 
weather, the military instructions took place on 
the campus; in bad weather, in the Armory on 
the first floor of Downing Hall. Drill generally 
lasted about one hour; then, until supper, came 
sports. 

But to-day, as has been seen, drill had lasted 
well throughout the afternoon. Shortly after 
the “ first call ” for supper the bugler sounded 
“ assembly.” 

As the cadets jumped into their places in 


40 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


double-rank formation on the Armory floor pre¬ 
paratory to the march into the Mess Hall, 
Colonel Thomas Jefferson Meadows, the school 
Commandant, stepped before the line: “ Men, as 
you doubtless all have heard,” said he, “ the St. 
James challenge has been accepted. I was glad 
to see that this battalion stood the gaff so w T ell 
to-day. It was a long, tough drill. I congratu¬ 
late you. It makes me sure that when we get 
to the real business of preparation for Durham 
next spring, we shall win hands down.” T. J. 
paused and smiled as he looked up and down the 
line, meanwhile running a hand over his shining 
bald head. 

“ The events, men, will be as follows: football 
this fall—tentatively. You have all heard 
rumors about the abolition of the game. I can 
sav to you, however, that as yet nothing has been 
fully decided; and that meantime we shall carry 
on; and that the game with St. James Durham 
has been scheduled for the Saturday before 
Thanksgiving, November twenty-fourth.” 

A restless movement swept through the line 
accompanied by a few slight murmurs. 

“ Order! ” called out the cadet officers* “ Order 
there! ” 



A MESS-HALL BULLY 


4i 

Instantly there was rigidity again, and abso¬ 
lute silence. 

“ Captains, bring your men to * Rest/ please,” 
said the Commandant. 

“ Company A,” called out Cadet Captain At¬ 
kins W, “ Rest! ” 

“ Company B,” cried Cadet Captain Yarick 
W, “ Rest! ” 

“ Band,” yelled Band Leader and Drum Major 
Hertzog, “ Rest! ” 

With this order each cadet was permitted to 
speak and to assume any standing position of 
comfort he wished, so long as he kept his right 
foot in line. All heads turned toward T. J. 

“Football will be considered a separate part 
of the competition,” continued the Commandant. 
Again he paused, but went on in a moment, 
“ Here’s hoping we win, too! 

“ The balance of the Tournament of course 
will be held next June. The date is Saturday, 
June first. Each event will count one point; and 
the events will be: 

A Guard Mount. 

A Platoon Drill. 

A Drill in the Manual of Arms 
by a picked Squad. 

A Review. 


42 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


And the Single Combats which will be as you 
know: gymnastics, wrestling, and boxing. 

“ The whole school, of course, will compete in 
the battalion drills; I shall choose before June 
which of our four platoons is best to represent 
the school in the platoon drill; likewise before 
June a star Squad will be picked for the Manual 
of Arms drill. 

“ The men to represent the school in the Single 
Combats will be chosen in the Top-Men Contest, 
Tuesday, May twenty-eighth. 

“ These Single-Combat fellows will need much 
practice and training throughout the winter. 
Hence in order that the coach may know upon 
whom to count, those who desire to take part in 
the Top-Men Contest for the honor of the school 
will now kindly step one pace to the front.” 
T. J. again looked over his men; and his genial 
countenance was alight with confidence in them. 

Again there was a murmur throughout the 
line which this time, of course, the officers did 
not suppress. All now saw Cadet First Sergeant 
Myron Angus and Cadet Second Lieutenant Fred 
Barclay step forward. And then: “Pm going 
out for it, too,” thought Porky suddenly. And 
the Porcupine, his tow head bristling, moved a 


A MESS-HALL BULLY 


43 


pace to the front; then Richards A, with red 
cheeks a-glisten and black hair smoothed and 
parted in the middle, went forward; to represent 
Lovering Hall, at least, so doubtless he thought. 

“ Phew! ” from all sides, and grins : fun in the 
future easily could be seen. But the startling 
event now occurred: A fifth man, a pimply, over¬ 
grown, fleshy lad of about fourteen with a red 
head and a very frightened face moved out of 
the formation haltingly and stood in line with 
the other four. 

“ Look at that! ” exclaimed Corporal Schoharie 
the Silent under his breath to Second Sergeant 
George Case. “ That’s that new kid, Jones! ” 

“ Sure,” chuckled Case. u Hop-and-go-fetch-it 
Cyril Jones. We told him to do that; he’s 
nutty.” 

“ Do you think you’d better go in for this, my 
lad? ” the Commandant said in a low kindly 
voice as he stepped up to Jones. “ You’ve been 
in school only twelve days! I don’t think you 
understand; do you?” 

No one save Jones could hear T. J.’s words; 
but Cyril Jones was blushing furiously; and his 
stuttering answer rang down the line for all 
cadets to hear. “ They—they—they—they told 


44 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


me I ought to do it, s-sir! It was f-f-f-for the 
h-h-honor of the sc-sch-school, s-sir.” 

“ That’s all right, old fellow,” comforted Colo¬ 
nel Meadows, under standingly. “ Remain right 
where you are. We’ll look into this later.” 

Titters, laughter, guffaws now were heard on 
all sides. 

“ Battalion!—Attention! ” commanded T. J. 

On the instant there was silence and the click¬ 
ing of heels. 

In the Mess Hall (which is the military name 
for dining-room) were many long dining-tables. 
They were presided over at either end by masters 
or officers, commissioned or non-commissioned. 

First Sergeant Myron Angus commanded a 
table at the kitchen end of the Mess Hall. Sec¬ 
ond Sergeant Porky Taylor was not in charge of 
any table; and he and Private Johnny Hayes 
respectively had places on Myron’s right and 
left. Fred Barclay and Schoharie the Silent sat 
at the opposite end of the room. Second Ser¬ 
geant George Case watched over the other end 
of Myron’s table. Two of Case’s Lovering Hall 
chums, Corporal Richards A and Corporal Tib- 
botts, sat near George; also close to him was a 
new cadet, a youngster of eleven named Thomas 


A MESS-HALL BULLY 


45 

Hiller—a bespectacled, scared-looking little boy 
with black hair. 

It was Case’s business to preserve order and 
decorum at his table end; for Myron Angus, 
though in command, was too far off to be able 
to know all that might be going on. 

But George Case was no respecter of the Ser¬ 
geant’s chevrons he wore. He had obtained 
them, at least so most Old House men thought, 
merely because he was fifteen; was in the fourth 
form; had been at Chatham three years; and 
possessed the gall of an army mule. 

“ Say, new kid,” he whispered to young Hiller, 
his big gray eyes gleaming, the moment all had 
sat down for supper, “ do you know what that 
new kid Jones is going to get to-night for what 
he just did? ” 

“ No,” replied little Hiller. 

“ Sir! ” spat back Case. 

“ No, sir,” whimpered little Hiller. 

“ Well, he’s going to get the blamedest loosen¬ 
ing any new kid ever got. He tattled, I think, 
to T. J.! Booh! ” George Case blew bullyingly 
at the small boy. George was a tall, rawboned 
fellow with thin red wrists and light hair. And 
he, too, had pimples on his face; which he now 


46 THE CADET SERGEANT 

began to scratch with his right hand as he took 
up a slice of bread with his left and shoved a 
large piece into his mouth. 

Little Thomas Hiller shivered in fright. 

“ You’d better get scared, Hiller,” offered Case; 
then he addressed himself to Tibbotts at his 
right. “ What’s that we hear about this young 
new kid, Jim? ” 

“ Oh, you mean about the fourteen buckets of 
blood, George? Ha! ” 

“ Sure; and about the lead slugs! Didn’t you 
hear about them, too, Richards ? ” George winked 
at Richards A. 

“ We’ve got a counterfeiter in our midst, I 
heard,” returned Richards A, awesomely. 

“ Fourteen buckets of blood! ” chanted the 
three older boys in low unison. 

Little Hiller sat stiff; his eyes stared through 
his spectacles; his hands lay flat in his lap under 
the table; his supper was untouched; his face 
hot. He did not dare look to the right or left. 
He thought of his father, and wondered why he 
was in this terrible place; he wanted to run 
home—home. 

“ Counterfeiter! ” crackled Case without 
mercy. “We heard all about it, new kid! Mak- 



A MESS-HALL BULLY 


47 


ing lead slugs before you came here; and drop¬ 
ping ’em into slot-machines for gum and choco¬ 
late ! Fourteen buckets of blood! And the drug¬ 
store man will get you if you don’t watch out! 
Counterfeiter! ” 

“ Haw! Haw! ” laughed Richards A and Tib- 
botts. 

“ What you got to say for yourself? ” persisted 
Case. 

“ N-nothing, sir.” And little Hiller by a great 
effort turned his head in the direction of his tor¬ 
mentor; but there it stuck; he couldn’t turn it 
back to save his life; and, crimson-cheeked, he 
stared blankly through his spectacles at George 
Case—until that gentleman with a leer declared: 
“ We’ll attend to your matter to-night when we 
look after Hop-and-go-fetch-it Jones. Counter¬ 
feiter ! Eat! Eat! I command thee! ” 

“ Fourteen buckets of blood! ” intoned the 
three once more. But their food called them. 
They dived into their own suppers; and, thus 
relieved, the eleven-year-old new boy was finally 
able to turn his head and eyes back toward his 
own plate. He remained in this position scarcely 
touching his food, until chairs throughout the 
room scraped upon the bare floor. The cadets 


48 THE CADET SERGEANT 

arose. And their parting grace meant to Hiller 
only that his ordeal, for the time, at least, was 
over. 

A few moments later the battalion was dis¬ 
missed in the Armory. 

“ Why don’t you take a guy your size, 
George? ” asked a fat boy who had sat three 
chairs down the table from Case. 

“What business is it of yours?” demanded 
Case. 

“ I’m asking just the same,” replied the fat 
boy. 

“ Say, Williams, if you don’t want to get hurt, 
keep out of things you don’t know about,” came 
back George. 

Myron, Porky, and Johnny Hayes were stand¬ 
ing near the rifle-racks. 

“ You and I, Porky, will try a lot more pass¬ 
ing and receiving to-morrow afternoon and see 
if we can’t get them down better,” Myron was 
saying, when suddenly he spied Fatty Williams 
and Case. “ Fat, just a sec when you’re 
through,” he called. “ You’ve a good nerve,” 
he said in a low tone as Fatty reached him. “ I 
think I know what was just happening; and what 
was going on at your end of the table to boot. 


A MESS-HALL BULLY 


49 


I wasn’t sure of a lot of tilings during Mess. 
But it was all pretty bad, I suppose; wasn’t it? ” 
“ Talk to Case, Myron, please,” answered 
Fatty. 

“ That’s right,” laughed Myron. “ Hang that 
Case, anyway. F. Malcolm Williams,” he con¬ 
tinued with a smile. “What does F. stand for 
anyway? Fat or Freckles? ” 

“ For ‘ Fat ’—you gook, Myron,” broke in 
Porky explosively. 

“ For ‘ Fresh,’ ” put in Johnny Hayes with his 
eyes on the ceiling; which brought Johnny a 
smart blow across the shoulders from Fat. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE NEW CADET’S STORY 

“ Hey, Porky, get up quick! ” whispered 
Johnny Hayes about an hour after “ taps ” had 
been blown that night. All cadets were sup¬ 
posed to be in bed and lights out at “taps,” 
which was sounded at nine-thirty, except sixth- 
formers who could remain up until ten. “ Get 
up, I tell you! ” Johnny, in his pajamas, had 
tiptoed out of his alcove and gone into Porky’s. 

“What’s trouble?” demanded Porky sleepily. 
“ Can’t you see I’m resting to get ready to trim 
up those hot athletes a couple of years from 
now? ” 

“ Get up! ” repeated Johnny. “ There’s a 
loosening going on down in Dormitory D. You 
may never live to see another if Fred and Myron 
ever get hold of you in that Top-Men Contest, 
or Richards A, either.” 

“ More nerve than you had, though,” returned 
Porky as he slowly sat up. 

“ Case and that crowd are loosening old Hop- 

50 


THE NEW CADET’S STORY 51 

and-go-fetch-it down in D,” Johnny ran on, as he 
poked Porky in the ribs and shook his shoulder. 

That made things different. Porky now 
jumped out of bed quickly. Down the hall from 
their own Dormitory E they stealthily fled: to 
the stairs at the doorway of Dormitory H; thence 
to the floor below; and to the left into Dormi¬ 
tory D. 

“ Leave me. alone! Leave me alone, I tell 
you! ” a strident, queer voice was shrieking. 

“ Leave me a-alone! Leave me-” 

“ Shut up! ” The sound of a hand cracked 
across a mouth greeted Johnny and Porky as 
they reached Cyril Jones’s alcove. 

u Oh! Oh! ” It was a treble yell of terror 
now. “ Save me! Save me—please! ” 

A red-headed boy, flat on his bed with Case 
standing over him, appealed to the newcomers 
wildly for help, with arms outstretched. 

u You say another word and I’ll kill you! ” 
shot out Case. 

A dozen boys were crowded in back of Case. 

“ Help! ” screamed Jones. “ Help! Help! ” 

“ Beat it, fellows! Here comes some one! ” 
Jim Tibbotts’ warning from the doorway in the 
hall came none too soon. 




52 THE CADET SERGEANT 

All fled in every direction: some scrambled 
under beds in the different alcoves throughout 
the dormitory; others took a chance and bolted 
through the doorway and down the hall to their 
own abodes. 

Porky and Johnny were of those who ran pell- 
mell for their own alcoves. u Fred’s Officer of the 
Day, and Myron’s acting Sergeant of the Guard,” 
Porky murmured as they reached home safely. 

“We just beat ’em to it,” quoth Johnny. 
“ Wonder how we missed ’em.” 

“ They must have been looking at the moon,” 
said Porky. 

But back in Dormitory D now was consterna¬ 
tion; the Officer of the Day and the Sergeant 
of the Guard were at the dormitory entrance; 
Myron Angus, acting temporarily as Sergeant of 
the Guard, switched on the light in the doorway 
and let his superior officer precede him into the 
dormitory. 

“What’s the trouble, Jones?” asked Barclay 
as he came to the new boy’s bedside. “ Night¬ 
mare? ” 

“ Y-Y-Yes sir. That was it.” 

“ Well, go to sleep; and don’t yell like that any 
more. Anybody awake in this dormitory?” 


S3 


THE NEW CADET’S STORY 

Not a sound answered him. 

“ Sergeant Angus, go across the hall and see 
if Sergeant Case and Corporal Tibbotts are in 
their bunks. I’ll inspect these alcoves.” 

“ Yes, sir.” Myron saluted; and went imme¬ 
diately upon the duty assigned, while Fred 
poked his head into one alcove after the other 
in a quick, perfunctory manner. 

“ Case and Tibbotts there all right? ” inquired 
Fred as Myron returned. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Asleep? ” 

“ That was their appearance, sir.” 

“ Everything seems to be quiet here. Not a 
sound and every one in his own bed. So it ap¬ 
pears, anyway.” 

Together the two walked out of the dormitory 
and into the hall. 

“I guess that new guy must be nutty all 
right,” Fred commented, “ having a nightmare 
like that! ” 

Myron stopped and faced Fred. “You know 
better than that,” he said quietly. “And it isn’t 
right for us fellows who are non-coms and com¬ 
missioned officers to stand for such bullying as 
that in this school.” 


54 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“What do you mean? ” demanded Fred, his 
color rising. 

Both were in full uniform with cadet caps on: 
Myron in white gloves and with white, brass- 
buckled cartridge-belt tight around his waist; 
and Fred white-gloved likewise, but with a dark 
commissioned officer’s belt about him, from 
which hung a gleaming commissioned officer’s 
sabre. Each realized fully, as now they gazed 
at each other, that they were on important mili¬ 
tary duty in the preservation of the discipline 
and even the spirit of the corps. 

“ I mean, Fred,” answered Myron, “ that you 
know as well as I Jones had no more nightmare 
than you had; and that Case is at the bottom of 
this—I could almost swear I heard his voice— 
and he’s a sergeant at that.” 

“I don’t know any such thing,” replied Bar¬ 
clay. 

“ Oh, come off, Fred.” 

“Well, suppose I do suspect then; we didn’t 
see him; did we? An officer can’t know a thing 
like that unless he sees the man; can he? Be¬ 
sides a little loosening doesn’t hurt any new kid.” 

“ I understand that all right,” returned Myron 
stoutly; “ but this is different.” 



THE NEW CADET’S STORY 55 

“ I’m Officer of the Day, not you,” declared 
Fred with affected ease. “And I’m in charge of 
these floors all night. I saw nothing; and you 
only think you heard Case. We report no man 
on evidence of that kind.” 

Myron felt chilled to his heart as they went up 
the stairs to the third floor on which both Fred 
and he lived; for Myron knew that according to 
the code of the corps Fred was right. And 
Myron believed in that code. Yet somehow he 
could not make it operate satisfactorily to-night. 
Bullying was rotten; hazing was different. 
Myron easily could distinguish between the two. 
He wondered how such a nervous lad as Jones 
ever had managed to get into the school any¬ 
way. 

At the top of the stairs a door of a master’s 
room opened. “ What’s the trouble, gentlemen? ” 
inquired the genial Commandant, a slight sign 
of anxiety in his wide blue eyes. “ I thought I 
heard a noise.” 

“Young Jones down-stairs was yelling in his 
sleep—at least so he said, sir,” answered Bar¬ 
clay. 

“Are you—you sure that was all, Lieutenant? ” 

Fred shrugged his shoulders. “Neither the 


56 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Sergeant nor I could put our hands on anything 
else, sir.” 

“ That boy Jones has no business here,” com¬ 
mented the Commandant as he rubbed his chin. 
“ He has a real nervous affliction. He got here 
through a misunderstanding. I shall speak again 
to Colonel Crawford.” 

Hence neither Myron nor the school was con¬ 
cerned long about Cyril Jones or the bullying of 
him; for within twenty-four hours Jones’s par¬ 
ents had called for him and taken him home. 

“I suppose, Myron, you’ll be blaming me for 
that,” said Fred as the boy was motored off. 

“ Let’s drop the subject,” replied Myron. 

“ Certainly,” returned Fred; and walked away. 

At football practice that afternoon a terrible 
calamity occurred, which for the day at least 
turned the minds of all Chathamites from every 
other subject. 

Fred Barclay, Myron, Porky, Schoharie, 
Richards A, the whole team, were playing a 
hard, fast practice against the scrub. The first 
half was over. 

“We’ve got to beat Niagara High, and we’ve 
got to beat Graylock,” Monty, the coach, declared 
to the team, “if we’re to have a look-in with 


THE NEW CADET’S STORY 57 

St. James at the end of the season. Isn’t that 
right, Fred? ” 

“ You bet it is, Monty.” 

“ Then go after the scrub this half, fellows; 
clean ’em up—just as if they were your worst 
enemies.” 

Some of the scrub team who were listening 
smiled rather grimly at this. Fatty Williams in 
particular didn’t think so much of Monty’s 
words. But Fatty, like a good scrub-team sac¬ 
rifice, kept his thoughts to himself and deter¬ 
mined to sell his own slaughter as dearly as 
possible. 

“ That was a fine catch of Porky’s pass you 
made, Myron, in that second quarter,” said Fred 
with a frank smile. “ I want you to know, too, 
that I think it was.” 

“ Thanks, Freddy,” Myron smiled back. “ I 
understand.” 

“ Look here, Hertzog, please,” called the team 
captain as he turned from the right end of the 
team to the left end. “I’m going to have 
Richards A from left half pass you one this 
quarter. See if you can grab it and get through 
the entire scrub for a touch-down; will you, 
Hertzy, boy? ” 


58 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“You bet I will,” replied Hertzog, bis dark 

oriental face lighting up. 

And three minutes after the second half had 
started Richards A passed a beautiful one. Hert¬ 
zog caught it; was down the field like a rocket. 
In a moment no one was between him and the 
goal line save Fatty Williams, the full-back of 
the scrub team. Hertzog dodged; Fatty dived. 
Crash! They hit the ground together from a 
magnificent tackle. 

u A-aay! Yow! ” yelled the side lines. “ Fine 
tackle, Fat! Fine run, Hertzy! ” 

Fat untangled himself slowly; then arose and 
stood looking down upon the man on the ground. 
But Hertzog didn’t get up. 

“ What’s that? ” 

Suddenly Monty rushed from the side lines 
followed by a boy with a water-pail and a towel; 
and a dozen others after him. The two teams 
crowded around the player on the ground. Hert¬ 
zog lay still, his body curled about the ball. 
Then his teammates picked him up and carried 
him into the Infirmary. 

“A slight concussion,” the doctor reported 
forty-five minutes later. “ He’ll get over that 
quickly enough, and so far as that is concerned, 


THE NEW CADET’S STORY 59 

lie’ll be all right to-morrow. But be also has a 
nasty broken shoulder.” 

Only the next day did the school draw a breath 
of ease. For Hertzog then was propped up in 
bed, grinning and receiving the plaudits and 
sympathy of the many who were permitted to 
have a look at him, and say hello. 

“ I’m glad old Hertzy is O. K. again,” pro¬ 
nounced Johnny right after dinner as he stood 
with his chums on the cement walk which runs 
in front of the main building. “ He’s a fine, fine 
guy. But I guess that puts the quietus on foot¬ 
ball, all right.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” replied Schoharie the 
Silent. 

“ No; of course it won’t,” offered the optimistic 
Porky. 

“Well, I suppose Fred’ll be satisfied now if 
Bingo does call it off! ” continued Johnny. 

“ Don’t talk that way, Johnny,” counseled 
Myron, “ or people’ll think you’re crazier than 
you are! Of course Fred won’t feel like that.” 

“Just the same, he’s been toadying to Bingo; 
and I hope you beat his head off in the Top-Men 
fight and for the Senior Captaincy, too,” came 
back Johnny undisturbed. “ This Porky here 


6o THE CADET SERGEANT 


and Richards A will be out of that Top-Men busi¬ 
ness in jig time, anyway.” 

But no one spoke; for as Johnny finished, 
George Case came up to the group from around 
a corner of the building; and every man was 
fully aware that George had heard each word of 
Johnny’s last remark. 

Porky eyed Johnny with view to immediate 
murder; but he did nothing. 

“ I feel sorry for poor old Fatty Williams, too; 
don’t you fellows?” began George as he thus 
gave himself away. “ Just saw him coming out 
of the Infirmary. Looked as if he’d lost all his 
rich uncles or something.” 

The Old House men silently nodded their 
agreement with George. 

At this moment the little new cadet, Hiller, 
chanced to go by, his frightened face averted 
from the crowd of older boys. Case turned his 
head toward him. “ Counterfeiter! Fourteen 
buckets of blood! ” he shot out; then turned back 
laughing to the Old House men. 

All watched Hiller break into a run and flee 
in the direction of the Gym. 

u Walk down the drive with me a bit; will you, 
George? ” asked Myron. “ I’ve been going to 



THE NEW CADET’S STORY 61 


talk to you about that supper-table thing night 
before last,” he began as they left the crowd. 
“ You’ve got to cut that kind of business out. It 
won’t do, George.” 

“ But hazing is a tradition in this school,” pro¬ 
tested Case. 

“ Hazing and bullying are two different 
things,” replied Myron. “ You know that well 
enough: one is fun; the other is picking on a 
kid who is scared to death.” 

“ But I don’t see why you should interfere 
with school tradition,” persisted George flushing. 

“ Oh, forget it,” answered Myron. “ That kid 
is a puny little beggar, too frightened to live, 
almost. You’ve got to cut out bothering him, at 
the table, anyway.” 

“ You’re in command there, Myron,” came back 
Case with self-pity. “ I suppose I’ll have to cut 
it out there.” 

“ Yes and you’d better cut it out elsewhere, 
too, George; he’s too small for you.” 

George Case, with face very red, left Myron 
Angus; and as he thought over Myron’s words, he 
grew angrier and angrier; for at last it had sunk 
home that Myron practically had accused him of 
cowardice. 


62 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Immediately after supper that night Myron 
met little Hiller in the library doorway right 
under the school’s old clock, with its sign, Carpe 
Diem, on it, which had ticked off the hours since 
the years of our fathers. “Were things any 
better at the table to-night, Hiller? ” Myron 
asked. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ What’s all this lead-slug thing about, anyway, 
Hiller? Did you do what those fellows say be¬ 
fore you came to school? If you did, it’s all 
past; so forget it. Things’ll be all right soon.” 

Little Hiller gazed a moment at Myron with¬ 
out speaking; then he told his lie: “No, sir,” 
he answered, his voice trembling. “ I didn’t do 
any of those things ; honest I didn’t.” 

“ That’s good,” responded Myron, and put his 
arm over the boy’s shoulder. “ I think we can 
see that you won’t have any more trouble. 
There’ll be no doubt about that.” 

And at the same moment, in the doorway of 
the School Room, Fred Barclay and George Case 
held converse: “Are we going to lose football, 
Fred? ” 

“ I don’t know,” replied Barclay with anxiety. 

“ I hope not—for your sake.” 


THE NEW CADET’S STORY 63 

Fred's face was dark as lie listened. “ That's 
more than a lot of my so-called friends hope, I 
guess," he answered. 

“ I know. I talked with 'em. And I don't 
care, Fred, if Angus does belong to your Club. 
You've broken the ice just now. He makes me 
sick; and I'd just as soon tell him so to his face." 

Fred's head was turned away; he made no 
reply, but his thoughts were turbulent: he feared 
terribly that Bingo would end football now; and 
that the school would blame the captain of the 
team; he regretted every word he had said in 
support of Bingo. 

The bugler was blowing “ first call" for study- 
hour. Fred and George immediately separated. 
Yes, even his own friends, Fred thought on, were 
all against him. He could see that, all right. 
And Angus—Fred let his jaws tighten in anger— 
most of the Old House men, especially Angus!— 
So it had come about at last that even the 
Lovering Hall fellows knew what a rotten deal 
Angus and Old House men were handing out. 

Porky and Schoharie had been watching Fred 
and Case from a distance. 

“ Things are fixed now, I'm afraid," Porky 
whispered, as Case and Barclay parted. 


64 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ I shouldn’t be surprised,” answered the 
Silent Man, with conviction. “ It’s too bad.” 

And Johnny Hayes, too, was more filled with 
sorrow that night than he ever had been before. 


CHAPTER V 


JOHN H. HAYES TURNS ACTOR 

“ Ride him on a rail! Ride him on a rail! ” 
shrieked John H. Hayes with glee immediately 
after dinner two days later. It was Thursday, 
which, instead of Saturday, was the school’s 
weekly holiday; the day when every cadet private 
who had incurred demerits during the previous 
week “ walked heat ” with a rifle on his shoulder 
on the drive in front of the main building. 

Johnny had done two hours and a half of 
“ beat ” that morning, and was feeling fairly 
sprightly because it was over. So now he had 
purloined a long clothes-pole from the “ en¬ 
closure ” in the rear of the school, and had gone 
on a hunt for victims. As he spied Fatty Wil¬ 
liams he leaped behind him and ran the pole 
between that gentleman’s legs. “ Ride him on a 
rail! ” he yelled. 

Schoharie the Silent, Jim Tibbotts, and Porky 
Taylor instantly came to Johnny’s aid. And 
Fatty was jerked off the ground, legs dangling, 

65 


66 THE CADET SERGEANT 


hands clinging for dear life to the pole, with his 
body bent nearly double. 

“ Hey! That’s a mean advantage! ” yelled 
Fatty. 

“ Yow! Wow! ” came back the others. 

“ Hang on, Fat! ” derided some spectators. 

u Soak it to him, boys! ” laughed others. 

Out on to the lawn in front of the drive Fat 
was carried, bouncing, tossing, his freckled face 
red and worried, his thick light hair blowing in 
the breeze. 

“ He ate too much dinner, anyway! ” cried 
Porky gaily. “ Let’s bang him on the grass! ” 

“ Go easy! Quit it, please! ” begged Fatty. 

But they heaved him high and mightily and 
tossed him off the rail to land in a heap on the 
ground. 

“ You long-geared mutt, John! ” quoth Fat as 
he picked himself up. “ Let me get my mitts on 
you! ” 

But John H. Hayes had no such idea. He 
scooted toward the Armory, laughing back de¬ 
fiance and triumph. 

And Fatty, after a short effort, gave up the 
chase. “ Watch me even up with that John H. 
Hayes,” he chuckled determinedly as he returned 


JOHN H. HAYES TURNS ACTOR 67 

to the others. “And with you guys, too! Come 
on, Sco,” he grinned and picked up the pole. 
“ Let’s ride somebody else! ” 

Fat looked around him with blood in his eye. 
“ Oh, baby, there’s Case,” he murmured suddenly. 
In swift, though gingerly taken steps, Fat was 
behind George. “ Hide him on a rail! ” he 
shrieked. 

In that instant the pole was between Case’s 
legs; Schoharie the Silent had the other end of 
it; and George, struggling and helpless, was 
ridden out to the middle of.the lawn; and, to the 
great happiness of all around, was bounced high 
and long; then dumped in proper ignominy to 
the ground. 

By which it can be seen that Chatham was 
back to normal again. Nothing further had been 
heard from Bingo about the abolition of foot¬ 
ball ; Hertzog was safely on the road to recovery 
and soon could be about again and at least be 
able to blow his cheeks full and his lungs empty 
on his big bass horn in the cadet band. Also 
Old House and John Hayes, too, it would seem, 
had forgotten sorrows for the time being; though 
recitations and drill of course continued as regu¬ 
larly as daylight. 


68 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Nevertheless there were rumors; yes, and great 
ones, too : rumors of excited Faculty meetings 
wherein T. J. and Old Hank, the Piety master, 
defended football; rumors of a special trustees’ 
meeting which had been called for a very secret 
purpose. 

Yet the days went on, and finally Saturday 
came; and with it the Niagara High game. 

“ Pooh! ” concluded Johnny, “ nothing’s going 
to happen! ” 

“Who says there is?” demanded Porky. 
“You’re always thinking things.” 

“ I’m thinking Fatty’s going to be an Old 
House man soon, or my name’s not Hayes,” said 
Johnny. “ He’s no sort of a guy to be a neutral.” 

“ Of course he isn’t,” laughed Porky. “ We’ll 
get him in. Did you know he’s going to play in 
Hertzy’s place this afternoon? ” 

“No; is he?” 

“ Sure he is. If you’d keep your ears open 
instead of your mouth, Jawn, you might find out 
a few things! ” Porky took a butt with his shoul¬ 
der at John H. Hayes. 

The game with Niagara High proved a good 
one. Chatham was victorious 13 to 6. Both 
teams played well. 


JOHN H. HAYES TURNS ACTOR 69 

“We’ll trim up Graylock next week; then 
watch us! ” yelled Johnny to Myron, as the latter 
came out of the shower. 

“ Get out of here!” laughed Myron; and 
chased Johnny from the locker-room. 

“ Me for the intellectual arts! ” called back 
Johnny undaunted. “ No coarse-grained labor 
in mine, like your stuff! ” 

On this, perhaps, was founded the reason 
which sent Johnny Hayes between supper and 
study-hour that night to the room of “ Church ” 
Bell at the head of the “ masters’ stairs ” on the 
second floor. 

“ Mr. Bell, would you mind please, sir, hearing 
me recite my lines in the show we’re thinking of 
giving, sir? ” began Johnny in a soft tone. “ I’ve 
been learning ’em, and I think maybe I’d like to 
be an actor.” 

The English teacher leaned back in his chair, a 
funny smile upon his face: he knew Johnny H. 
Hayes pretty well; so he wondered what was 
coming. “Why, certainly, Hayes,” he replied. 
“ Going to give a show; are you? ” 

“ Yes, sir; we’d like to.” 

“ Have you learned all your lines already? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir.” 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


70 

“ Splendid.” 

“ Yes, sir,” admitted Johnny; and swallowed 
conspicuously. “And I was wondering, sir, if 
er—if maybe—if I was pretty good in 'em, sir, 
you might be so kind, sir—as to-” 

“As to let you off in your English, Hayes?” 
broke in “ Church,” grinning broadly. “ That 
it? ” 

“ Yes, sir—if you’d be so kind, sir,” granted 
Johnny. “ Those were my very thoughts, sir.” 

“ Let’s hear the lines then, John; and we’ll 
see.” 

Now Fatty Williams had seen Johnny enter 
“ Church’s ” room; and woe still was in Fatty’s 
soul. Fatty even eavesdropped through the 
partially opened doorway and thereby learned of 
what was about to occur. Fatty thereupon had 
an idea: he hustled away but was back in three 
minutes—and with a siphon of soda, wdiich he 
had borrowed without asking from Old Hank’s 
room, safely tucked under his arm. He was 
capably prepared for mischief. 

“ Shall I close the door, sir, while I recite, 
sir? ” It was Johnny speaking. 

“ It’s not necessary, Hayes.” 

“ I was only thinking, sir, if any uncouth guys, 



JOHN H. HAYES TURNS ACTOR 71 

I mean fellows, sir, should happen to hear 
me-” 

“ But you must get used to an audience, 
Hayes,” broke in “ Church/’ unfeelingly. 

Johnny ran two fingers under his collar and 
against his Adam’s apple, and stuck out his chin. 
“All right, sir, just as you say, sir,” he agreed 
with a furtive glance toward the doorway, which, 
however, so far as he could discern, showed no 
enemies, mortal or otherwise, in sight anywhere; 
yet he was not quite ready to go on; there might 
be danger lurking behind that door, though Fat 
behind it hardly had dared to breathe. 

“If we really decide to give the show, Mr. 
Bell, sir,” John started in again, “ do you think 
we can have it before Christmas, sir? ” 

“We’ll see, Hayes. It’s possible; provided 
you men can learn your parts in time.” 

That was better. 

“I have mine learned all right, sir,” said 
Johnny; and then with the idea that he would 
like to hit first if anything dire should prove to 
be in the offing, he added: “ But there are a—lot 
of dumb-bells around these diggings, sir. Take 
in this show ‘ The Hero’s Revenge,’ sir: if Porky 
Taylor is to be Captain Potter, the villain, with 



72 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


all that guy—I mean gentleman—has to say, it’ll 
take Porky at least a couple of years to learn 
his lines.” 

“ When are you going to recite yours, John? ” 
smilingly asked Mr. Bell again. 

“ Yes, sir,” gulped Johnny. “ And if I’m to be 
the hero, sir,” he continued with desperate de¬ 
termination, “ and the hero’s to have a horse, it’s 
going to take a long time to educate the horse 
I’ve picked out. The trouble is, sir, Fatty Wil¬ 
liams has been going around so long on his two 
hind legs, it’s going to be awful hard to teach 
him to go on four! ” 

“ But you can try, John,” laughed “ Church ” 
Bell. 

“ Oh, yes, sir, yes, sir; I can try.” 

A slight stir occurred in the hall; but it was 
no great noise. If Johnny had heard it, he might 
have considered that it was the first whirr of 
the approach of a storm or something. 

“ Well now, Hayes, stop ‘ pulling the plug,’ ” 
laughed “ Church ” at last. “ Let’s hear those 
lines. Turn around and face the doorway. Im¬ 
agine all you can see in the darkness of that hall 
out there is a set of grinning faces. That’s the 
way the audience looks to actors on the stage.” 


JOHN H. HAYES TURNS ACTOR 73 

“ Oou! ” ejaculated Johnny. “ Must I do that, 
sir? ” 

“ Certainly; you can’t stand and look at me, 
John, while you recite. You must get used to 
that black space and the grinning faces. I’ll stay 
behind you, or rather off to one side of you; just 
as if I were in the wings of the theatre, and this 
were a dress rehearsal.” 

“ Yes, sir,” acknowledged Johnny plaintively. 
He turned slowly around and faced the doorway. 

“ Remember, John, that you have treed the 
villain, Captain Potter,” said the master as he 
glanced over the tattered book of the play which 
Johnny had given him. u Turn your head and 
eyes up toward the ceiling when you now address 
Captain Potter and pretend he’s in a tree! ” 

John H. Hayes obeyed, but dubiously. 

“ Recite! ” commanded “ Church ” Bell. 

With head back, mouth wide open, Johnny 
began to speak: “And I tell you, Captain Potter, 
dare you so much as even to think of refusing 
me the whereabouts of your stolen gold, your soul 
will land in perdition quicker than-” 

Fatty Williams, with eye glued to the crack of 
the door, let his own soul rise to beatific heights. 
What if Johnny were in a master’s room? The 



74 THE CADET SERGEANT 

penalty to be paid could be little enough for this. 
Patty aimed the soda siphon slowly, carefully at 
John H. Hayes’ open mouth; then pressed the 
handle. 

Siss! Sizzle! Squirt! The blast of soda- 
water shot forward and found its mark squarely 
against Johnny’s left tonsil. 

“Blung! Pflouw!” Johnny spat; spattered; 
nearly choked himself sick. 

The soda blast changed direction with Johnny’s 
wriggling motions and pelted Johnny on eyes, 
nose, and cheek. 

“ Oh! Oh! Oh! Wait till I get you! ” 

Johnny forgot Captain Potter, “ Church ” Bell 
and all decorum, as amidst the shaking laughter 
of the master himself, he turned berserker and 
jumped out of the room in a murderous hunt for 
this unseen insulting enemy. 

Fatty was about three jumps ahead of him; 
and with siphon abandoned on the floor, flew 
down the sacred “ masters’ stairs ” four steps at 
a time, Johnny right behind him. 

“ You pie-faced, mutton-headed, lop-eared 
goat! ” roared Johnny as he ran. “ I’ll-” 

At the bottom of the “ masters’ stairs ” in front 
of the closed door of Bingo’s office, Porky, Scho- 



JOHN H. HAYES TURNS ACTOR 75 

harie, Myron, and Fred Barclay discussed foot¬ 
ball earnestly and to the exclusion of all con¬ 
sciousness of anything else. 

“ If, as Fred says, the Trustees have acted, it’s 
all over, Myron,” pronounced Schoharie the 
Silent with finality. 

“ Not necessarily, Sco, if we put up a fight for 
it; besides Fred hasn’t told anything yet that 
Bingo has decided.” 

“ Probably Myron’s right,” declared Porky 
without reason, but rather because his wish was 
father to his thought. 

Fred Barclay’s jaws were twitching nervously, 
and his brown eyes were like live coals. He just 
had come from Bingo’s office. 

And then the avalanche of boys hit them. 
Fatty and Johnny with a clatter and a bang 
landed in a heap in their midst. Johnny tripped 
over Fatty’s back and whacked against Myron 
who thus was suddenly sent shoulders forward 
into Fred. 

“ Look where you’re going! ” cried out Fred 
angrily, as he put a hand to his mouth and dis¬ 
covered that the impact had caused him to bite 
his lower lip until it bled. “ Get out of here, 
you fellows; we’re talking! ” 


76 THE CADET SERGEANT 

And Fatty and Johnny indeed quite willingly 
both disappeared on the instant. 

“ Fm sorry, Fred, I knocked against you that 
way; I couldn’t help it,” apologized Myron. 

“ Oh, that’s all right. I guess there’s little 
more to be said, anyway. It’s you fellows 
always, though: it’s always Old Housers who 
cause trouble.” 

“ Fat isn’t an Old Houser, Fred,” put in Porky. 

“Well, you all know what I mean just the 
same.” Then Fred by a great effort got a better 
command of himself. “ You fellows, all three of 
you,” he added with his old friendly smile, 
“played a mighty good game this afternoon. 
But, as I was going to say when those idiots 
busted in on us, your playing won’t do you any 
good much longer: Bingo’ll have some news for 
you in a little while that’ll be real news.” 


CHAPTER VI 


IN THE GYM 

“ Office of the President . 

“ General Order 101. 

“ Owing to the accidents which have taken place 
on the football field of this school and because of 
the many serious tendencies in the game here and 
throughout the country, the playing of American 
Intercollegiate football will be prohibited after 
the match with Gray lock Academy, on next Sat¬ 
urday, October 6th. 

“ Graylock felt that it was too late to cancel 
its game. All other games, however, have been 
canceled. 

“Association football, or ‘ soccer ’ may be 
played; and it is suggested that teams to play 
this game be organized at once. 

“With regard to the remainder of our com¬ 
petition with St. James Durham: St. James has 
stated its willingness to go ahead with football 
excluded. 

“ By order of the President. 

“(Signed) Mark Livingston, 

“ First Lieutenant and Adjutant. 

Monday, 1 October, 19—-P 

Mark Livingston read the notice to the cadet 

77 


78 THE CADET SERGEANT 

battalion at Chapel formation; turned and 
pinned the fateful paper carefully to the notice 
board on the wall behind him. , 

This, then, was the news from Bingo which 
Fred had mentioned night before last. 

It shot through the body of each rigid cadet 
like an electric current. 

“A fine thing—this! ” commented Schoharie 
the Silent with immobile countenance, as the fel¬ 
lows stood about in groups on the Armory floor 
just before dinner that day. 

“ Terrible! ” agreed Johnny. 

“No more than we expected, though,” added 
Myron grimly. 

“Yes; but I didn’t really think Bingo’d do it 
at that.” Poor old Porky looked as if he were 
about to cry. “ Isn’t there anything we can do, 
Myron? ” 

“ I don’t believe so,” answered Myron. “ When 
the 0. O. actually has ordered a thing, it’s set¬ 
tled ; and then it’s up to us to end our grousing.” 

“What’s a Commanding Officer for, anyway, 
Myron, if he’s not to grouse at? ” Porky began 
to laugh once more. “ I don’t like C. O.’s, any¬ 
way.” 

It had been a frightful morning. The cadet 


IN THE GYM 


79 

corps had been marched into Chapel as soon as 
the order was read; and thence had been marched 
at once into the School Room for the regular 
recitations and study. There had been no time 
until noon for a discussion of the matter; and 
the strain had been almost unbearable. 

u It’s all Fred’s fault! ” shot out Johnny Hayes 
at last. “ If he’d done his job decently as cap¬ 
tain of the team, he’d have put up a fight for 
the game instead of kowtowing to Bingo.” 

“ Cut that out, Johnny,” ordered Myron; 
“ Fred did what he thought was right.” 

“ Why should I cut it out? ” demanded 
Johnny. “ It’s the truth.” 

A silence came upon the Old House men. For 
of the various groups of gray uniformed, excited 
fellows on that Armory floor none was more 
vociferous than a crowd of Lovering Hall men 
in the center of the room about ten yards away. 

“ I tell you, boys, Fred should have gotten the 
whole team to go to Bingo and protest before 
this happened. He knew it was coming! ” 
Richards A, left half-back and Case’s chum 
brought out the words with all the vehemence at 
his command. His cheeks were afire; his black 
eyes blazing; and his tall, well-built form 


8 o THE CADET SERGEANT 


quivered. “ Fred ought to be ashamed of him¬ 
self ; and all of us on the team ought to be, too! ” 
Nods and grunts of agreement came from Tib- 
botts and a half-dozen others. 

But George Case declared loudly: “ I don’t 
think you’ve a right to say that. Fred Barclay 
is one of the finest football captains this school 
ever had. What could he have done if the Presi¬ 
dent of the school wanted to—wanted to abolish 
football? What could any guy do? ” 

Myron Angus from his distance watched 
George Case closely. Myron was very clear in 
his own mind regarding the motive behind Case’s 
words: George would like to make it appear that 
he was Barclay’s best and perhaps his only 
friend; and thus cause further trouble in Old 
House. “And the funny part of it is,” thought 
Myron, “ Case is right about Fred and football; 
and I’ve been wrong. WTiat other course had 
Fred than the one he pursued? Bingo, after all, 
is the boss.” 

“A guy can do a lot of stuff, George, if he 
wants to,” came back Kichards A. “ He can put 
up a holler for one thing, loud enough for the 
whole world to hear.” 

“You bet he can, Dickie! ” shouted a cadet. 


IN THE GYM 81 

u You’re right!” cried out another. “ Bar¬ 
clay’s let the school down! ” 

“ Fellows! ” spoke a clear strong voice, “ Fred 
did the best he could, and that was as much as 
any man here in this school could have done! ” 
Every head instinctively turned at the ring in 
those words, and gazed into the flashing dark 
eyes of Myron Angus. 

“ That’s it, Myron! ” cried Case instantly, his 
own eyes gleaming. “ That’s just what I’ve been 
telling these guys! ” 

Myron Angus scarcely deigned to notice him; 
he looked calmly into the faces of the crowd 
which now surrounded him. “ It’s up to us to 
be good soldiers and swallow our medicine with 
a smile,” he went on; “ and not take out our dis¬ 
appointment on the man who’s done the best he 
could and so far has led the team to victory! ” 

“ Oou! oou! ” groaned a good many voices. 

“ Aaay! Aaay! ” agreed some others. 

“ That kind of talk makes me sick! ” spoke up 

Richards A. “ It’s-” 

But Richards A did not finish; for at that 
moment another cadet entered the Armory: Fred 
Barclay with eyes straight in front of him, 
glancing neither to the right nor to the left, 



82 THE CADET SERGEANT 


walked swiftly upon liis own business through 
the room and off into the hallway beyond. And 
as he disappeared George Case followed him. 

“ Tin no toadier to the Faculty, George, nor 
to Bingo, either,” declared Fred in the hall a 
moment later, his big brown eyes wide. 

“ Of course you’re not,” condoled George Case; 
“ everybody with sense knows that.” 

“ I know the fellows hate me,” continued Fred 
hotly. “ I don’t blame ’em much. I thought I 
was doing right. Bingo is the C. O., any way 
you look at it.” 

“ Of course he is, Fred. All will realize that 
pretty soon.” 

“ Maybe they will. But those fellows back in 
the Armory are all pretty sore at me just the 
same.” 

“ Well, they were, I guess,” responded George; 
“ but they’ll get over it.” 

“ I saw Angus there, too,” continued Fred. “ 1 
presume he was one of the worst against me; 
wasn’t he? ” 

“ No he wasn’t,” answered George. “ That was 
the funny part of it. I don’t understand him 
at all.” 

“ I don’t understand him, either.” A bitter 


IN THE GYM 83 

smile flashed across Fred’s dark face. “ Myron’s 
been one of the worst against me right along.” 

“ I know it,” sympathized George. 

Fred looked away. Racing through his brain 
now was the thought that in the view of the 
school he was a deserter, a deserter of his team¬ 
mates and of his own game. While Angus— 
Angus had stood up for the game. Fred’s fists 
clenched. Oh, well, the point was that no man 
who was despised by his fellows was any good. 
That was it. That was the point; that was the 
awful point. 

“ Thanks very much, old man, for coming to 
me,” he said to Case quickly as he turned his 
head back to George. “ I must go now. I’ll see 
you later.” 

And Case, surprised and a little shocked, an¬ 
swered : “ All right. I just wanted you to know; 
that was all.” 

Fred alone in his own room some moments 
afterward fought out his battle; fought and lost: 
he gave way to hatred of every one, especially of 
Angus; blamed all others but himself for his un¬ 
happiness; determined that one of these days 
soon he’d show the school who was the better 
man, Myron Angus or himself. 


84 THE CADET SERGEANT 

That afternoon the football practice was light. 
Monty’s heart wasn’t in it; neither was Fred’s. 

“ Just the same, men,” grinned Monty ruefully 
and yet determinedly as the team finally came off 
the field, “let’s brace up and die game. Gray- 
lock is Saturday. Let’s lick ’em! ” 

Fred shot a quick smile at the coach. 

“What do you say, fellows?” laughed Monty. 
“ I’m all gloomed out! How about you fellows ? ” 
“ I’m for licking ’em! ” cried out Myron. 

“ Me, too! ” added Porky Taylor with a laugh. 
“ Same here! ” declared Richards A. 

“ That’s the eye, boys! ” agreed Monty. “ Let’s 
clean ’em up as the last and best thing we do! ” 
Everybody roared now; and Monty put his 
hand on Fred’s shoulder. “ Brace up, old skin- 
nermarink,” he whispered. “ This gang’ll all be 
with you in no time. All out at four to-morrow, 
fellows,” Monty added to the team, “ and for a 
good, tough scrimmage, too! ” 

“Yea! Aaay!” 

The practice, having been very light, as has 
been noted, Fred, Myron, and Richards A, before 
taking showers, went into the Gym. A half-dozen 
little boys followed them. These three football 
men easily were the best gymnasts in Chatham; 


IN THE GYM 


85 

and frequently in games of tag ran all over tlie 
rafters on the inside of the dome of the building, 
and up the narrow planking superimposed hori¬ 
zontally against the walls and over the beams 
which crossed the width of the Gym. They played 
like young lynxes in a grove of trees. 

“You’re 6 it/ Angus!” cried Eichards A. 

“ All right! Wait a sec! ” 

The three stripped off their football shoes and 
jerseys; and, stocking-footed, leaped for the 
Gym walls: Fred ahead of the others; Eichards 
A off in another direction; Myron after Fred. 
Up the side of the wall Fred sped, Myron at his 
heels; across a beam; up the inside of the dome, 
their backs to the floor; down the other wall to 
the floor again; across the Gym; and up once 
more on the opposite wall to the beam across the 
building. Neither gained a foot on the other. 
They approached the center of the Gym, high 
above the heads of all. 

“ Go it, Fred! ” 

“ Go it, Myron! ” yelled the little boys. 

“ Catch him, Myron! He let the team down! ” 
It was a treble voice which sounded that cry. No 
one seemed to know whose words they were. 
They may have come from little Thomas Hiller; 


86 THE CADET SERGEANT 


for lie was there, his near-sighted eyes peering 
hard through his spectacles. But all knew at 
once that in any event a tragedy was upon them. 
For as the words smashed against the roof of 
the Gym, Fred Barclay dropped lithely from the 
beam to the floor seven feet under him; and like 
a cat Myron Angus instantly followed. 

“ You heard what that kid just yelled? ” shot 
out Fred, as the two stood before each other, 
with all eyes upon them. 

“ I did,” answered Myron quietly. 

“ All right then; Fm telling you that I’ve had 
all I’m going to from you. You started this 
thing against me on the field the day the St. 
James challenge was received.” 

“ I didn’t mean to start anything against you,” 
replied Myron honestly. “ I only told you what 
I think a man has a right to say, especially when 
he’s on the team.” 

“ Is that so? ” Fred lowered his head and 
glared savagely at his fellow Old House man. 
“ Well, you’ll lay off anything in the future that 
I’m connected with. Get that now; or I’ll know 
why.” 

Myron met Fred’s angry gaze unflinchingly. 
“ I’ll do what seems right to me,” he answered, 


IN THE GYM 87 

his voice very low. “ And, Fred, don’t threaten. 
That’ll get yon nowhere.” 

“ It won’t; won’t it? ” 

“ No,” answered Myron. 

“ Then maybe this will! ” 

With the quickness of lightning, his control 
entirely gone, Fred sent a stinging blow from his 
open palm against Myron’s cheek. 

For a moment Myron stood stock still. His 
fingers went to the purple spot where Fred’s palm 
had hit him. A flush mounted to the roots of his 
hair; his eyes remained fixed upon Fred Barclay. 
“ You’ll fight me for that, Fred,” he said at 
length, his voice very cool and even, “ and you’ll 
do it now! ” 

“ All right,” answered Fred; and then added, 
strangely: “ But I really don’t want to fight you, 
Myron. For one reason, I think I can lick you! ” 
“ All the more reason then for proving it,” re¬ 
plied Myron, his black eyes steady on the larger 
boy. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE BATTLE OF THE GIANTS 

“ Fight ! Fight! Fight!” shrieked a small 
hoy suddenly. And the cry was taken up at once 
by the others; and went echoing toward the 
school. 

“ They say it’s Fred and Myron! ” shot out 
Porky Taylor as he rushed by Johnny Hayes in 
front of the main building, and rounded the cor¬ 
ner toward the Gym, his face serious, his bristly 
tow-colored eyebrows and hair sticking straight 
up in the sunlight. 

Johnny followed Porky instantly. A string of 
racing, gray-coated cadets were on the run to¬ 
ward the Gym also. 

“ Fight! Fight! Fight! ” All over the school 
the cry resounded. 

In the Gym the two fighters quickly stripped 
bare to the waist. A “ ring ” twenty feet square 
was paced off by cadets and was marked at the 
corners by gray blouses on the floor. 

“ Pm seconding you, Myron,” murmured Porky 
as he came up to his chum. 

§8 


THE BATTLE OF THE GIANTS 89 

“ Thanks, Pork.” 

“ How did it happen? ” 

“ Tell you later.” 

“ That’s all right. Any chance of patching it 
up for—for—Old House’s sake? ” 

“ No.” Myron undisturbed eyed the magnifi¬ 
cent rippling muscles of the man who now stood 
in a corner of the ring diagonally opposite him. 

“ Just a sec then,” said Porky; and walked over 
to Fred. “ Who’s seconding you, Freddy? ” he 
asked easily. 

“ I don’t know.” Fred’s tone was low. “ Case 
wants to. I don’t want him. I’d like one of our 
own fellows.” 

“You don’t need any second, Fred; you’re 
crazy; what you need is a nurse,” answered 
Porky earnestly. “ Get over there now and make 
up with Myron, for—for Old House’s sake.” 

“ It’s too late.” 

“ Will you if Myron will? ” 

“ He won’t: I told him I didn’t want to fight 
him.” 

Porky looked back whence he had come. 
Myron’s body was bent over. He was rubbing 
the bottom part of his stockings in dust from the 
Gym floor as an aid against slipping. Porky 


90 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


gazed a moment in silence at the vast broad 
shoulders, the long powerful arms dark with hair, 
the strong big hands, the thin, muscular waist. 

“ Myron! ” he called gently. Myron looked up. 
“ Will you come over here and shake? ” 

“ After this is over,” replied Myron. 

The Gym filled up fast with out-of-breath ca¬ 
dets who crowded about the two fighters. 

Porky faced Fred again. “What reason did 
you give him for not wanting to fight? ” he asked. 

Fred told him. 

Porky’s little blue eyes squinted as a quizzical 
smile spread over his ruddy face. “ Well maybe 
you can’t lick him, Fred,” he said. “ Have you 
thought about that? ” 

“ I can lick him,” answered Fred quietly. 

“ Then I guess you’d better get a second. What 
about Fatty Williams? He’s a neutral. Will he 
do?” 

Fred nodded yes. 

“ Better take Tibbotts for Fatty’s assistant. 
He’s good enough, anyway, to fan you with his 
blouse.” 

“ All right,” agreed Fred and beckoned to the 
Lovering Hall man. 

“ And now,” grinned on Porky, his stout legs 


THE BATTLE OF THE GIANTS 91 

spread apart, his arms on his hips, “ Pm against 
you during this fight. But just as an act of old 
friendship, I’ll send up to the Infirmary for the 
nurse before we start in and have her ready to 
bring you back to life after my man gets through 
with you.” Whereat Porky recrossed the ring to 
his gladiator. 

Johnny now was beside Myron ready to assist 
Porky. Varick W, the Lovering Hall man who 
was Junior Captain of the battalion, was chosen 
referee; Atkins W, the Senior Captain, time- 

1 

keeper. 

“ Keep back from the ring, you fellows, and 
away from the fighters! ” ordered Schoharie the 
Silent, who with Mark Livingston and two or 
three others formed a self-constituted police 
force. 

The crowd of cadets moved backward. 

Junior Captain Varick stood in the center of 
the marked-off space. Fred and Myron waited 
in the ring corners diagonally opposite each 
other. 

“ Your man ready, Taylor? ” inquired Varick. 

“ You bet,” answered Porky. 

u Yours ready, Williams? ” 

“ Sure,” grinned Fatty. 


92 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Shake hands, you two.” 

Fred and Myron approached each other in the 
center of the ring and coldly shook each other’s 
right hand once. 

“ Hitting in clinches with one arm free goes,” 
declared Yarick W. “ Time! ” he called out. 

Not even for an instant did the two barefisted 
boys crouch to feel each other out before starting 
hostilities. Instead Fred Barclay, his eyes 
ablaze, leaped straight into Angus and shot a ter¬ 
rific blow with his left fist against Myron’s stom¬ 
ach. Myron doubled over; Fred’s right crashed 
against Myron’s jaw. Myron’s head flew back. 
He tried to side step; struck out wildly, des¬ 
perately. Fred was on top of him like a tiger; 
hit him mercilessly, rights and lefts. One! Two! 
One! Two! One! Two! on jaw and eyes and 
nose. 

Myron tottered backward; his mouth and nose 
were bleeding! Again Fred’s right crashed: this 
time flush against Myron’s cheek. 

At first the crowd was stunned to silence; now 
all broke out into wild yells: 

66 Aaay! aaay! Put him out, Freddy! ” 

“ You’ve got him! You’ve got him! ” 

u Put him out! ” 


THE BATTLE OF THE GIANTS 93 

“ Put him out! ” 

“ Hang on, Myron! Hang on! ” 

“ Dive into him! Hive into him, Myron. And 
hold! Hold! ” It was Porky dancing in his cor¬ 
ner, shrieking above the din. “ You’ll get him 
then! Hang onto him, Myron! ” 

Myron’s eyes were fixed on Fred; his arms 
seemed rigid; his jaws were tight; his body was 
hunched; his head slightly forward: a fine figure 
though smaller than Fred Barclay. 

Suddenly he sank downward, his knees bend¬ 
ing. 

“ Hive at him! ” yelled Johnny frantic. “ Hive 
—you bonehead! Please! Please! ” 

And Myron, through sheer will power, sum¬ 
moned brain and muscle. He dived into Fred; 
and at the same moment swung his massive right 
fist wildly. The blow landed square on Fred 
Barclay’s temple. 

“Oh! Yow! Wow!” 

“ Myron! ” 

“ Myron! ” 

Fred’s face relaxed; his arms dropped; and 
Myron sank against him. 

“ Stall! Stall, Fred! ” begged Tibbotts. 

“ Break away, you fellows! ” Varick W shoved 


94 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


his body between the two and forced them apart. 
For an instant Myron and Fred stood wabbling 
before each other, their fists in fighting posture. 
Both were near to exhaustion. Then Fred’s body 
tightened; his jaws set; his brown eyes took fire 
again. 

u Clinch! Clinch, Myron! ” warned Porky. 

But Myron as yet had few thoughts in his 
brain. 

Fred feinted with his left; and sent a crashing 
blow with his right square to the point of Myron’s 
jaw. 

As though shot Myron Angus dropped to the 
floor. 

“ One! two! three! four! ” Varick W stood over 
him; and, with arm moving up and down with 
each count, checked off the terrible seconds while 
the cadets in silence watched and listened. 
“ Five! six! seven! eight! nine!—ten!—he’s 
out! ” 

“ Men, enough of this! ” a voice suddenly 
thundered. Every head turned to the square¬ 
shouldered Commandant who at that instant en¬ 
tered the Gym. “ All of you, get out of here and 
quick! ” 

But Porky, Johnny, Fatty Williams, Scho- 


THE BATTLE OF THE GIANTS 95 

harie, and Fred Barclay paid T. J. no attention, 
though the others quickly filed out of the build¬ 
ing under the urging of Atkins W and the Junior 
Captain Varick. 

The Old House men were kneeling beside their 
prostrate friend. 

“ He’s coming to,” murmured Johnny at 
length. 

“ He’ll be all right in just a minute,” said 
Porky. 

Blood oozed slowly from Myron’s nose and 
from a vicious cut on his lower lip; and his left 
eye was swollen to the size of a small egg. 

T. J. knelt down, too; felt Myron’s pulse. 
“ He’s not badly hurt, men.” 

“ Then—then—I—I haven’t killed him, sir? 
Oh, oh, what have I done? ” 

Colonel Meadows stood up and looked into the 
unhappiest face he thought he ever had seen on 
a cadet of Chatham. “ No, you haven’t killed 
him, Fred; and you haven’t done anything ter¬ 
rible, either; for it was a fair fight, I suppose? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir.” And then Fred Barclay 
dropped down to Myron’s side and put his arm 
under Myron’s head. “Are you all right, old 
fellow—are you? Are you? ” he whispered fe- 


96 THE CADET SERGEANT 

verishly, as Myron at last opened his eyes. “ Oh, 
I’m sorry, awfully sorry. I outweighed you ten 
pounds. Are you all right? ” 

“ Sure,” smiled Myron somewhat wanly. 
“ Here’s my hand on it. I’m satisfied, too.” 

“ Forgive me; will you? ” begged Fred. 

“ Of course. Forgive me. You said you didn’t 
want to fight.” And then Myron pulled himself 
together still more: he sat up and grinned at 
T. J., at Johnny and at Porky. “His fists are 
made out of stone,” he said, his voice shaking a 
bit. “ Did anybody ever get a worse licking? ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE POWER-HOUSE 

“ It*ll clear the atmosphere, anyway,” con¬ 
cluded Schoharie the Silent sagely that night; 
“ and everybody will be better for it.” 

“ Shouldn’t be surprised,” agreed Porky. 

But Johnny Hayes wasn’t so optimistic. “ You 
athletes are like a bunch of children,” declared 
el ohnny with great superiority. “ No guy who 
got the licking Myron got likes the man who gave 
it to him; and no man who gives such a licking 
likes himself for handing it out to one of his own 
clubmen. And when a man doesn’t like himself, 
he’s sore on the other fellow, as Fred will be on 
Myron. Human nature is human nature.” 

And Johnny wasn’t far from right: at least 
George Case felt much the same way; for George 
declaimed in a like manner that very evening to 
Tibbotts and Richards A; and also laughed long 
and loud at the expense of Fred and Myron in 
particular and at all Old House men in general. 

As to Colonel Meadows and most of the school: 
T. J. had been a master many years; and to him 

97 


98 THE CADET SERGEANT 

a fight, so long as it was fair, was out of mind 
about as quickly as it was over. To the majority 
of the boys, the fight of course was quite a topic 
of conversation; but the points always uppermost 
were the acknowledgment that Barclay was far 
the better man; and that next spring Fred very 
easily might represent the school in all three 
Single Combat events. 

Myron was quickly patched up in the In¬ 
firmary. And the school agreed with him thor¬ 
oughly that no man before ever had received such 
a licking as Fred Barclay handed out. 

“ Isn’t Fred a holy marvel? ” 

“ The best athlete this or any other place ever 
saw! ” 

“ Jack Dempsey couldn’t have had much on 
him when Jack was Fred’s age! ” 

“ And he’s as wonderful in the Gym as he is 
in the ring! ” 

“ And wrestle! Boy, he can pin the shoulders 
of any man in school to the mat just as quickly 
as he put Myron out! ” 

“ St. James Durham has nobody in his class! ” 
“ Myron’s game, though. You bet he’s game; 
and a dandy athlete, too! But he’s just not in 
Fred’s class! ” 


THE POWER-HOUSE 


99 

These remarks were typical; and tell their own 
story. 

So when football practice was called the next 
afternoon and Fred and Myron both appeared 
and hopped into their work as though nothing 
had happened, each was given a rousing cheer by 
the cadets on the side lines. 

Yet a strange thing was noticed: Bingo Craw¬ 
ford apparently either knew nothing, or oddly 
had decided to say nothing, about the fight. 

u T. J. is a great old sport; isn’t he? ” vouch¬ 
safed Porky. 

“ Good enough,” admitted Johnny. 

The following day was Thursday, the weekly 
holiday. The Commandant had agreed to take 
a party of boys to one of the power-houses at 
Niagara Falls and show them as much as he 
could in an afternoon about the electrical energy 
caught out of the great river. 

“ Oh, Colonel Meadows, take me; will you 
please, sir? ” 

“ Me, too, sir.” 

“ And me! ” 

A crowd of small boys surrounded T. J. who 
stood at the old horse-block in front of the main 
building. 


ioo THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Can’t take you all, men; not this trip, any¬ 
way. I’ve agreed to take a half-dozen of you 
lower-formers already. Let’s see,” he continued, 
as he smilingly surveyed the cadets, took off his 
military cap and mopped his bald head which 
glistened in the September sun. “And besides 
you youngsters, Case is going and Richards A, 
Taylor, Hayes, Tibbotts, Angus, Williams, Scho¬ 
harie, Barclay. And, Captain Atkins, you’ll go 
with us; will you? ” 

“ I should be pleased, sir,” bowed the tall, dark 
Senior Captain. 

“ Could I please go, sir, too? ” pleaded a very 
small youngster, his near-sighted eyes blinking 
through spectacles. 

“ I said we’d take you, Hiller,” answered Colo¬ 
nel Meadows, as he glanced down at the pa¬ 
thetic-appearing little new cadet. 

And then another little fellow, with tow hair 
and blue eyes stood before the Commandant and 
looked up at him silently. 

T. J. grinned. “ Now look here, Philip Heathe- 
cote,” he said, “ what are you trying to do? ” 

“ I’d like to go, too, sir.” 

“ I thought your eyes were so bad you couldn’t 
do arithmetic yesterday.” 


THE POWER-HOUSE 


IOI 


“ They were, sir—then.” 

“ But they’re better to-day. Is that it? ” 

Philip came a little closer; and, with head 
upraised to the Commandant, drew down the 
under lid of his right eye with the index finger 
of his right hand. “ You see, it’s still pretty bad, 
sir,” he declared. “ It still squirts water right 
out every fifteen minutes, sir.” 

“ It what? ” 

“ Yes, sir: water squirts right out of that eye, 
sir, every fifteen minutes. But that’s lots better 
than it was.” 

“ Oh, I see,” replied the Commandant gravely. 
“ Well, if that’s the case, perhaps you’d better 
come along with us then and keep Thomas Hiller 
company.” 

“ Thank you, sir—very much, sir.” 

“ How’s your right eye, Sergeant? ” chuckled 
T. J. to Myron in a low tone as the youngster 
turned away. “ Is it squirting water, too? ” 

u It squirted the river full day before yester¬ 
day, sir,” laughed Myron Angus; “ so I guess it’s 
done its entire job.” 

“ All aboard, men! ” cried T. J. “ Let’s go.” 

But as Colonel Meadows spoke, the door of the 
office of the President of the school opened and 


io2 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Bingo Crawford appeared upon the walk. A tall, 
thin man, with closely cropped gray hair and a 
hawk-like eye, the C. O. looked the part of soldier 
and just disciplinarian. Every cadet quite nat¬ 
urally came to attention as Bingo walked up to 
the group. 

“ Angus and Barclay,” the President said 
quietly, “when you two men return from the 
Falls come into my office, please? ” Then with 
a smile and a wave of his hand he called out: 
“ Good luck, gentlemen; ” and retired to his 
office. 

“ Gone geese, both of ’em! ” muttered Johnny 
as Colonel Crawford disappeared. “ That’s not 
so good! ” 

“ All ready, men? ” called out T. J. 

“Yes, sir!” answered the fellows. 

As they skirted the football field through the 
lane of pines which guard the winding drive to 
the gate of the school grounds, the Commandant 
said: “ I want to compliment you football men 
and tell you that I think it shows good pluck 
in view of the existing circumstances for the 
team to go ahead with nothing else in mind but 
licking the stuffing out of Graylock next Satur¬ 
day. Many a team wouldn’t do that. But it’s 


THE POWER-HOUSE 


103 

the only way, men—fight to the end in every¬ 
thing.” 

The cadets nodded but said little; though they 
were very appreciative of T. J.’s words. 

“ I suppose, sir, football is really gone, sir; 
isn’t it? ” asked Johnny Hayes as they reached 
the Lewiston Road and a Falls trolley-car hove 
in sight. 

“ Yes, Hayes: I’m afraid it is.” 

“ Oh, well then,” declared Johnny, “ no use 
kicking about what can’t be helped as the Bible 
says. So me on this bright day will feast my 
eyes upon Niagara unless before we get there 
somebody has moved the doggone Falls! ” 

“ Righto, Johnny,” laughed Colonel Meadows. 
“ And now,” he went on after the boys had seated 
themselves in the trolley-car, “ we might as well 
understand a little of what we pass by.” 

“When I first came to Chatham—let’s see,” 
T. J. rubbed his chin and smiled. “ Great Scott, 
men, it’s ’most forty years ago! ” He breathed 
deeply. “Well, anyway, I played right half¬ 
back on the school team in those days even 
though I was a master, right half-back, your 
place, Taylor W.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 


104 THE cadet sergeant 

T. J. looked out the car window and pointed 
to the buildings of the city. “ None of these 
houses was built then; this w T as all country. The 
town had about eight or ten thousand inhabitants 

and it has now- How many do you say, 

Myron? ” 

“ About sixty thousand, I should say, sir/’ an¬ 
swered Myron Angus. 

“ That’s about right. Well, gentlemen, that’s 
quite a growth; isn’t it? ” 

“You bet it is, sir!” responded a number of 
voices. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ That was made possible by the electrical 
power developed from the river,” continued the 
Commandant. 

“ How do you mean, sir? ” asked Porky. 

“ Electrical power produced direct from water 
alongside the power-house is cheaper than that 
produced from steam made from coal, which first 
has to be dug out of a mine; and then oftener 
than not hauled a long distance to the power¬ 
house.” 

“ You mean then, sir,” asked Fred Barclay, 
“ that electrical power produced from water 
really is simply made by sticking a water-wheel 



THE POWER-HOUSE 


105 

into water and letting the river current turn the 
wheel around? ” 

“ That’s about it, put simply,” said T. J. 
“ That’s the basis of it, Fred.” 

“ Then it’s just like a wheel in an old grist¬ 
mill ; isn’t it? ” broke in Porky, whose father was 
a farmer who dwelt outside of Lockport. “ Jim- 
iny! The running water turns the wheel; the 
wheel turns the shaft, wdiich turns the machinery, 
which grinds the flour.” Porky grinned. “ Is 
that right, sir? ” 

“ It is, Taylor W.” 

“ There, you guys! ” laughed Porky and stuck 
out his great chest. “ Not so dumb! Ask me 
another! ” 

Johnny Hayes was looking at his chum with 
awe. “ You mean that in the power-houses here, 
sir,” took up Johnny, “ that running water hits 
a wheel, turns it; and the w T heel turns a shaft 

which turns machinery which- Oh, pooh, 

Colonel! ” blushed Johnny, “ I’m all twisted 
up! ” 

“ You’re all right, Hayes. Go on: which ma¬ 
chinery now makes electricity,” added the Com¬ 
mandant, “ generates it, as it is called. And this 
electricity is a power in itself with a faculty 



io6 THE CADET SERGEANT 


of running machinery such as that in cotton 
mills, steel plants, and abrasive factories. And 
electricity also makes light, as you know. Well, 
electricity can be and is sent over wires for many 
miles to distant cities such as Buffalo, Rochester, 
and Syracuse, and like places miles away.” 

“ But how does that make a city grow, sir? ” 
broke in Porky again. 

“ Manufacturing plants all need power to run 
their machinery,” replied T. J. “ Machines can 
be run, of course, by steam. As I have said, how¬ 
ever, steam comes from coal, which has to be 
mined and generally hauled, and it costs more 
money than power obtained through a wheel 
which is turned by running water. Naturally a 
manufacturer wants to produce his goods as 
cheaply as he can, so that he can sell them more 
easily, and make all the money possible. There¬ 
fore, he will try to build his plant where he can 
get the cheapest power.” 

“ And that’s here at Niagara,” said Myron. 

“ Sure it is, Myron,” approved Fred. “ We’ve 
always lived on the river and my dad’s told me 
lots about it.” 

“Well, when I first came to Chatham,” con¬ 
cluded the Commandant, “ there was only one 


THE POWER-HOUSE 


107 


small power-plant at Niagara which, made elec¬ 
tricity for manufacturing. Since then all the 
power-houses you see on the river have been built. 
Then manufacturers brought their factories here; 
these factories employed people; and people have 
families. So the city has grown from about eight 
thousand to over sixty thousand.” 

“ Now I see! ” exclaimed Porky. 

“ Me, too,” added Johnny. 

“ Thanks, sir,” said Myron. “ Thanks for tell¬ 
ing us.” 

“ Thanks very, very much, sir,” echoed the 
others. 

The street-car reached the south end of the city 
of Niagara Falls and stopped in front of a beau¬ 
tiful steel and concrete building, located perhaps 
three-quarters of a mile from the Cataract. 

“ Here’s the power-house we’re going to visit! ” 
called T. J. “ All out, men! ” 

The boys scrambled from the car and to the 
street. Beyond the building could be seen the 
swift-flowing river shortly before it makes its 
final rush in rapids to the brink over which it 
falls to the gorge one hundred and sixty feet 
below. 

u There, boys, we’ll first glance at the ma- 


io8 THE CADET SERGEANT 


chinery inside the power-house,” declared the 
Commandant; “ then we’ll go outside on the wall 
in which is the opening where the water enters 
and goes inside the power-house to turn the 
wheel.” 

They entered a long, comparatively narrow 
building of tremendous height, with a red tiled 
floor and white walls. Vast steel girders, all 
painted white, ran up the walls to a dome-like 
ceiling far above a network of other white girders 
which crossed the building from side wall to 
side wall. A narrow iron stairway, glistening 
in black paint, ran high against the wall opposite 
them to an open doorway near the cross girders, 
through which the blue of the sky could be 
clearly seen. 

A low humming of fast-moving electrical ma¬ 
chinery met their ears. Close in front of them 
stood a circular, black-painted steel casing about 
forty feet in diameter, only half of which was vis¬ 
ible, however, above the floor. Attached to the 
front edge of the casing was a machine, not un¬ 
like the casing in general appearance, but about 
one-quarter its size. 

“ Inside that casing, boys,” explained the Com¬ 
mandant, “ is the water-wheel. That smaller ma- 


THE POWER-HOUSE 


109 

chine attached to it is the generator which makes 
the electricity.” 

The boys stood for a moment in silence as they 
looked. Then Porky asked, “ Are those other 
big machines beyond just the same as these two, 
sir?” 

“ Yes,” replied T. J. He led the party down 
the side of the narrow building to the center, and 
the boys counted five more great water-wheel cas¬ 
ings and generators. 

“ This power unit, that is, all these machines 
considered together as a single unit,” explained 
Colonel Meadows, “ is one of the largest in the 
world. The water-wheel inside is tremendous.” 
The Commandant turned to a power-house em¬ 
ployee : “ Just how heavy is it, sir, if you 
please? ” 

“ It weighs over fifty tons,” answered the em¬ 
ployee. 

“ By Jove! ” exclaimed Colonel Meadows. 

“ That wheel in there makes over one hundred 
revolutions a minute,” added the power-house 
man as he faced the boys. 

Murmurs of awe came from all sides. 

“What happens to the water after it’s gone 
over the wheel, sir? ” asked Johnny. 


no THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ It goes back to the river through a steel tun¬ 
nel which we call the tail race,” replied the 
power-house man. 

“ We’ll see that afterward, boys,” put in T. J. 

The Commandant turned now to a huge slate 
switchboard which stood against the wall behind 
them. 

“ Those handles on this switchboard are the 
controls by which the power is switched on and 
off,” he said. “ We’ll now go outside on the top 
of the wall through an opening in which the 
water goes to these wheels.” 

The boys then followed T. J. up the iron stairs 
at the end of the building and out on the wall. 
As they looked out from the top of the wall, the 
river from miles to the south seemed to be com¬ 
ing upon them like a vast relentless force. But 
just before it reached them, the greater part of 
the foaming w T ater was diverted to the right of 
the power-house, and passed on in an endless 
racing current. 

The remainder of the water, however, came to¬ 
ward them more quietly, and, as though it were 
tired, eased itself against the wall whereon the 
boys stood. 

u See, men: look down just under you! ” cried 


THE POWER-HOUSE 


111 


Colonel Meadows. “ See that iron grating 
through which the water is flowing? ” 

The boys gazed over the safety rail against 
which they were standing, down upon the water¬ 
side of the wall, at an iron grating which sloped 
outward and away from them and so disappeared 
into the depths. The river jammed against the 
bars of the grating, and passing between, entered 
the wall. 

“ That’s where the water goes into the tube or 
penstock and rushes on until it hits the water¬ 
wheel in the power-house,” explained T. J. “ The 
grating is known as the trash rack. It keeps all 
sorts of stuff out of the penstock.” 

All looked intently and watched the flow as it 
sped through the openings between the bars and 
entered the penstock. 

“ If a fellow should fall into the water and get 
his hand caught between those bars on the rack, 
sir,” said Porky with a grin, “ he’d be a gone 
bozo! ” 

“ He would,” laughed the genial Commandant. 
“ But don’t fall in! ” And T. J. winked at Myron 
Angus. “ Right, Angus? ” 

“ Right as right, sir.” 

“ I won’t fall in,” declared Porky. 


112 THE CADET SERGEANT 


And then suddenly a splash was heard. 

“ What’s that! ” cried out Colonel Meadows, 
his face blanched, as he swung completely 
around. “A boy’s in! ” 


CHAPTER IX 


AGAINST THE RACK 

Without hesitation, Myron Angus vaulted the 
railing and leaped into the water. 

In two powerful strokes he was beside a strug¬ 
gling boy whom the current of the river drove 
against the rack. 

Fatty Williams, with nose and mouth just at 
the water’s level, struck at the iron bars of the 
grating with hands and feet; tried to gain a hold 
and pull himself to safety. But the slope of the 
rack was against him. He attempted desperately 
to raise himself once, twice; and then with sud¬ 
den despair in his face, he sank down and the 
water covered him. 

All took but a few seconds; but in them Myron 
realized that Porky’s prediction had come true. 
Myron dived deep toward Fat; saw that one of 
Fatty’s hands had been jammed between two of 
the bars of the rack. Myron caught Fatty’s 
wrist; yanked it; but the effort forced him to try 
to breathe. He shot up to the surface; inhaled 

113 


11 4 THE CADET SERGEANT 

quickly; and dived again. The water was clear. 
He could see Fat floating face downward, abso¬ 
lutely unconscious, with knees bent, and the im¬ 
prisoned hand holding him as a hawser holds a 
boat to its dock. 

Again Myron grabbed; and this time turned 
Fat’s hand; then yanked with all his strength; 
Fat was freed. Myron seized him by the hair; 
and with a powerful effort brought himself and 
Fat to the surface. 

T. J. and Porky jumped into the water. Ex¬ 
cited fellows leaned over the wall and gazed down 
at them, Fred Barclay with the rest, his dark 
face twitching. 

“ Lie flat on your belly, Barclay! ” commanded 
T. J. as he swam, “ and give us a hand! ” 

Fred obeyed. 

Porky and T. J. now were on either side of 
Myron and the unconscious Fat; and they pushed 
and lifted the two up until Fred could reach 
them. Then Fred, with the help of Richards A, 
Johnny, and Schoharie, hauled Fat to the top 
of the wall. The boys were strangely silent, as in 
terror they watched men from the power-house 
administer first aid. 

At length Fat was brought back to life, and 


AGAINST THE RACK 


1 15 

hurried in a taxi to the school Infirmary, with 
Johnny and the dripping Myron, T. J., and Porky 
watching over him. 

“ Oh, isn’t this terrible! ” gasped small Philip 
Heathecote. 

Little Thomas Hiller blinked; he seemed too 
frightened to answer. 

“ Will he live, Atkins, will he? ” Philip turned 
a strained face up to the Senior Captain. 

“ I don’t know; I think so,” answered At¬ 
kins W. 

“Did you see how it happened?” Atkins W 
asked Schoharie as the taxi shot away. 

“When T. J. was talking, Fat must have 
climbed up on the railing,” responded Schoharie 
the Silent. “ I saw him just as he lost his bal¬ 
ance. His legs seemed to go up in the air and he 
fell. He was off at the far end of the rail, away 
from the rest.” 

“ Getting funny—poor old Fat! ” commented 
Atkins W in a low voice. 

Schoharie the Silent nodded. 

“By George, though, Sco,” continued Atkins 
W, “ Myron may not be so good a fighter as Fred 
Barclay, but he has the stoutest heart I ever 
saw.” 


ii6 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ It’s stouter than Fred’s or yours or mine,” 
replied the Silent Man almost under his breath; 
“ lots stouter, thank Heaven.” 

“ That’s what I meant,” answered the Senior 
Captain gravely. 

The cadet party which remained was very 
solemn indeed as it waited for the trolley-car to 
take it back to school; and every man seemed to 
feel, as Schoharie and the Senior Captain felt, a 
deep thankfulness above everything for the cour¬ 
age and ability for instant action of Myron 
Angus. 

“ Isn’t Myron a peach?” small boys kept re¬ 
peating. “ O my, isn’t he a peach? ” 

“ And old T. J., too! ” 

“ And Porky! ” 
u Isn’t Myron a peach! ” 

Only little Thomas Hiller and George Case 
appeared to get out at all from under the spell. 

For as at last the boys started to board the 
street-car, little Hiller glanced furtively about 
him; dashed from the crowd into a drug store on 
the corner; came out again quickly with fists 
filled with slot-machine chocolates and rushed 
back to the car. The drug-store proprietor, a 
queer expression on his face, followed little 


AGAINST THE RACK 


117 

Hiller to the sidewalk; stopped there; and shak¬ 
ing his head peered after the small gray-coated 
back. 

George Case took this all in; and as Hiller en¬ 
tered the trolley George’s lips closed tightly, then 
opened again. But George made no comment. 
Instead he took a seat alongside Fred Barclay. 
“ That was a nervy thing for Angus to do, all 
right,” he remarked after a moment. “ Wasn’t 
it?” 

“ You bet it was,” replied Fred and turned his 
head to look out the window. 

“ I hope Fat pulls through O. K.,” continued 
George. 

“ So do I,” replied Fred without movement. 

“Are you all right?” asked George. 

Fred swung around. “ What’s the matter with 
you, anyway? ” he demanded with irritation. 
“ Of course I’m all right.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean anything, Fred.” 

“ Well, don’t talk so much then.” Fred turned 
back to the window. 

As the party reached school and hurried to the 
Infirmary to inquire about Fatty, the sick-room 
door opened and Bingo Crawford came out. 

“Williams is all right now, gentlemen,” said 


ii8 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Bingo. “ The doctor is still in with him. Better 
all go now and get cleaned up for supper.” He 
turned to the Senior Captain and Fred Barclay: 
“ He must have climbed up on the rail when no 
one was looking, so they tell me.” 

“ So I understand, sir,” answered Atkins W. 

“ Poor fellow, and just fell in.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Fortunate that Angus acted as he did; wasn’t 
it?” 

“ Very, sir,” replied Atkins W. 

“ Never mind coming in to see me, Lieutenant,” 
added Bingo to Fred. “ We’ll let go for a while 
the matter about which I intended to speak to 
you. I’ve already told Angus.” 

“ Very well, sir,” acknowledged Fred. 

Just before “ taps ” that night Fred Barclay 
stood alone before his mirror. A deep-chested, 
broad-shouldered, muscular figure he saw; with 
square jaws and a darkly bearded though cleanly 
shaven face, which now was flushed at the cheek¬ 
bones. 

“ You were a coward, Barclay,” he muttered 
to the image he beheld. “ That’s what you were 
this afternoon—a yellow, rotten coward; and you 
have been right along! ” 


AGAINST THE RACK 


119 

He stepped to his door; locked it; threw him¬ 
self down upon his bed; and with unseeing eyes 
fixed upon the ceiling, repeated the words over 
and over again: “A yellow, rotten coward, 
that’s what you are! ” 

At length he leaped up, his fists clenched. “ A 
man’s own club, though,” he cried half aloud, 
“ needn’t go back on him just because things 
happen to break wrong for once! ” 

Next morning at Chapel Formation, Adjutant 
Mark Livingston appeared before the line. The 
battalion was brought to rest. And Adjutant 
Livingston read the following orders: 


“ Office of the President, 

“ General Order 102: 

“ Cadet First Sergeant Myron Angus is hereby 
commended for his bravery at the power-house 
yesterday afternoon. Sergeant Angus’s act in 
plunging into the water to save the life of a cadet 
of the school was done with complete disregard 
of self and was over and beyond the call of duty. 
The school thanks him and congratulates him. 
This commendation will be made a part of his 
official record as a cadet in the Chatham Military 
School. 

“ William Crawford, President. 

“ T. J. Meadows, Commandant. 

5 October, 19 — 


i2o THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Office of the President } 

“ General Order 103: 

u Tlie school hereby thanks Colonel T. J. 
Meadows and Second Sergeant Taylor W for 
their valor while helping Sergeant Angus bring 
to safety the cadet who had fallen into the water 
yesterday at the power-house. 

“ William Crawford, President. 

5 October, 19 — 

Adjutant Mark Livingston pinned the orders 
on the notice-board behind him; and then, de¬ 
spite discipline, Johnny Hayes broke out of 
ranks; and, standing before the double line with 
right arm raised, shouted: “ Three cheers for 
Myron Angus, fellows! Hip! hip! ” 

“ Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! ” thundered the 
battalion. 

“ What’s the matter with Angus ? ” yelled on 
Johnny. 

“ He’s all right! ” roared back the fellows. 

“ Who’s all right? ” 

“ Angus! Angus! Angus! 

Myron, old boy! ” 

And then: “ Three rousers now for Colonel 
Meadows and Porky Taylor! ” 

“ Hooray! ” bellowed the battalion. “ Hooray! 
Hooray! ” 


AGAINST THE RACK 


121 


“Colonel Meadows! Colonel Meadows! Colonel 
Meadows! 

Taylor! Taylor! Taylor! ” 

Myron, as First Sergeant of Company A stood 
behind the rear rank at the right of the line. 
With every man’s eyes turned toward him, he 
stared straight ahead, his cheeks burning; and 
he was as uncomfortable as any modest man 
could be under such circumstance. Porky grinned 
and looked foolish; he wasn’t having any too 
much fun, either. T. J. was not in the Armory. 

“ Company A!—Attention! ” cried out At¬ 
kins W. 

“ Company B!—Attention! ” yelled Varick. 

“ Band!—Attention! ” thundered a lad named 
Claymore, who was acting band leader for the 
day. 

The men clicked to rigidity. 

Johnny started back to his place in the rear 
rank, but purposely went around the right of the 
line in order to pass by Myron. 

“ Hello,” he chuckled as he reached him. “ You 
look as if you’d swallowed the kitchen stove! ” 



CHAPTER X 


THE GRAYLOCK GAME 

“ All out, football practice! ” Monty tbe coach 
yelled the words in the locker room that after¬ 
noon. “ Signal practice only, men. Get a wiggle 
on you! ” 

The team left the main building singly and in 
pairs; and moved along the cement walk to the 
campus which lay in its quadrilateral of pines 
between the school and the Lewiston Road. 

“ To-morrow is the last game well ever play 
here, Sco,” remarked Fred Barclay as he and 
Schoharie the Silent walked on together, each 
with his head-gear looped over an arm and with 
their cleated football shoes clanking loudly on 
the sidewalk. 

Schoharie nodded. 

“ I know Fm in bad, Sco, with everybody,” 
continued Fred. “ What would you do about it 
if you were in my place? ” 

“ Lick Graylock to-morrow,” responded the Si¬ 
lent Man laconically. 


122 


THE GRAYLOCK GAME 123 

“ Sure; I know. That’s—that’s just what— 
we’re—going to do. Sure.” Fred shut his teeth. 
For a moment he could have “ socked ” Scho¬ 
harie. He even wished, too, for a second that he 
did not have to play in the game to-morrow. 

“ Hello, fellows.” It was George Case. 

George joined them; but set a slower pace; 
and Fred dropped back with him. 

“ Gloomy Gus to-day; eh, Freddy? Don’t 
blame you much. It is tough luck that to-mor¬ 
row is the last game.” 

“ It sure is,” answered Fred. 

“ Who’s going to play left end in Williams’ 
place? ” asked George. 

“ Claymore.” 

George made no comment. Claymore, “ Old 
Clay,” was twenty-two, the oldest boy in school; 
dumb as an ox, but an Old House man. George 
was not pleased; yet knew better than to say so. 

“ I feel sorry for you, Fred, about football and 
everything. I sure do.” 

“ Thanks,” answered the football captain. 
“ I’m sorry myself.” 

“Yes,” declared George. “You’ve had a raw 

time lately. Say-” George touched Fred’s 

arm and the two stopped by the pines at the edge 



124 


THE CADET SERGEANT 


of the campus. “ Say, why do you let your sup¬ 
posed friends hand it out to you so ? ” George 
turned his gaze up in apparent frankness. “ I 
don’t mean to butt in; but why do you? ” 

“ Are they handing it out to me? ” smiled Fred 
as he looked sharply at the smaller boy. 

“ Aren’t they? ” came back George. 

“I don’t know; do you?” 

“Well, if you don’t you’re dumber than you 
look, Fred. They’re trying to show you up all the 
time. I’d like to see that tried in Lovering Hall.” 

“Aw, ballywhizzle, George.” 

“ All right. Just the same I’d—I suppose they 
weren’t showing you up on the campus the day 
St. James’s challenge was received; and what did 
they do at the fight? I’d never let ’em get away 
with that stuff, you can bet. And now with yes¬ 
terday -” 

“ What about yesterday? ” demanded Fred in¬ 
stantly, every nerve alert. 

“ Oh, nothing. Only you can see for yourself; 
can’t you? ” 

“What’s anybody said?” 

“Nothing, I tell you.” 

“Yes they have.” Fred’s eyes bored into 
George. “What is it?” 



THE GRAYLOCK GAME 


125 


“ Nothing.” George did not move. “ Only 
you’re no dumb-bell, Fred. I was there at the 
power-house, too. Say, I’d show up Schoharie 
and Taylor and Angus if I never did another 
thing. You could do it to-morrow if you wanted 
to. What do you care? It’s our last game, any¬ 
way.” 

Fred did not utter a word. His big brown e^es 
still were fixed against Case. George grew 
bolder. “What’s the difference now, anyway, 
who wins? ” he ended. 

Then Fred’s lips opened. “ Beat it,” he 
snapped out, his voice very low. “ Beat it! ” 

Myron, Porky, and Johnny Hayes came by at 
this moment; and, as Fate would have it, did 
not see Fred; so passed him without speaking. 

All of Fred’s pent-up feelings arose once more. 

“ George! ” he called. Case turned back. 
“ Come here! ” Case walked up to him. “ I’m 
sorry for what I just said.” 

George Case grinned from ear to ear. 

Signal practice was well done that afternoon; 
the team, despite all the excitement of the past 
few days, was on its toes. 

“ Remember, fellows,” cautioned Monty as all 
gathered about him for a last word before they 


126 THE CADET SERGEANT 


left the field: “ Lots of good sleep to-night; don’t 
eat too much; don’t worry about anything; and 
to-morrow we’ll make Graylock mighty glad this 
is our last game. Lick ’em, fellows, that’s the 
only thing to think about; lick ’em! Fred, have 
you anything you want to say? ” 

“ You’ve said ’most all, Monty,” smiled Fred 
in his old way. “ We’ll give ’em more and repeat 
to-morrow, fellows. That’s what let’s do. Is it 
O. K?” 

“ You bet! ” the entire team agreed. 

Fred’s eye caught Myron’s. “ You’re going to 
have something to do to-morrow, too, old-timer. 
You and Porky sure are working passes fine.” 

Myron laughed happily. “ Thanks, Fred.” 

Every man in football togs felt a load lifted as 
he heard those two speak as friends again: not 
that there had been any open break since the 
fight; nevertheless a terrible fear had been on 
the team; and, though no player had mentioned 
it, the affair at the power-house and Fred’s part 
or lack of part in it had not added to any one’s 
comfort. Yes, the boys expected more of courage 
and fairness from Fred because of his prominence 
and athletic ability than from most others, with 
the possible exception of Myron. 


THE GRAYLOCK GAME 127 

The actual playing of football is one of the best 
cures for grouches known to man; hence Fred 
Barclay went to bed that night with a brand-new 
thought for the next day’s game. 

“Ray! Ray! Ray! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M. S.! C. M. S.! C.M. S.! 

Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! 

The team! The team! The team! ” 

Chatham warriors trotted into the field. It 
was three o’clock in the afternoon of the next 
day: to be exact, it was Saturday, October sixth. 
The whole cadet corps was lined up on the west 
side of the campus and cheered the team with all 
the volume of its one hundred-and-odd lung 
power. 

“ Barclay! Richards! Taylor! Angus! ” they 
yelled as the team lined up on the south end of 
the field and ran through a play or two. The 
Graylock Academy team of heavy players was 
already on the north end of the campus passing 
the ball swiftly among themselves. 

“ Here’s to dear old Chatham, 

The School that we all love! 

At ’em! At ’em! At ’em! 

The-” 



128 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Johnny Hayes in front of his schoolmates 
bawled out the old song; stumbled over the 
words; shut up in confusion midst the howls of 
derision from the pitiless multitude. 

“Learn ’em! Learn ’em! Learn ’em, Jawn, 
before you spout ’em! ” cried a shrill voice. 

“ Aw, dry up! ” laughed Johnny with the thor¬ 
ough knowledge that the joke was on him. 
Johnny could get no one now to join him in song. 

“ Here they go! ” 

The teams were lining up for play now. It was 
Chatham’s kick-off. Graylock was defending the 
north goal. 

“Ray! Ray! Ray! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M. S.! C. M. S.! C. M. S.I 
Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! ” 


and from across the field slapped back the 
answer: 


“Rickety ex! Coex! Coex! 

Rickety ex! Rickety ex! Rickety ex! 
Graylock! Graylock! Graylock! 

The team! The team! The team! ” 


Fifty men shouted sturdily their defiance, 


THE GRAYLOCK GAME 129 

though their cry was an adaptation from a Yale 
yell of ancient vintage. 

Then came silence. Fred Barclay was ready 
to kick off. The referee in the center of the field 
glanced first at one team, then at the other; 
raised one hand; blew his whistle. 

Crack! 

Fred Barclay’s toe struck the ball; the sphere 
sailed high and far; was caught by Graylock’s 
left guard on the ten-yard line. But Myron 
Angus was on him. Myron dived, struck his man 
square at the knees and downed him before he 
could take a step. 

“Wow! Yow! ” 

“ Forty-six! Eighteen! Six! ” Graylock’s 
quarter barked the signal for a line smash. 

Chatham held. Another smash came between 
left guard and center. Again Chatham held. An 
end run far outside of Myron followed on the 
instant. But Myron was through; and nailed 
the runner before two yards had been made. 

Graylock’s full-back now dropped back for a 
kick. Whack! The ball sailed high. Richards 
A got it; dodged; darted; was downed on the 
twenty-yard line after carrying the ball back a 
good ten yards. 


130 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Line up quick, fellows! ” yelled Fred. 

“ Sixty-eight! Seventy-two! One!—Go! ” 

called out Schoharie at quarter back. 

Porky Taylor, plowing forward like a bull, 
gained five yards through a hole between right 
tackle and right end which was made by Billy 
Blake and Myron Angus. Porky trotted back 
to his place with a grin on his face. 

“ Over we go! ” yelled Schoharie: a signal to 
be used once only in a game. The ball flew swift 
and true to Fred Barclay at full-back. Fred, on 
the run, got it against his stomach; shot forward 
as though from a cannon: Richards A and Porky 
were his interference. He skirted left end; Porky 
bowled over an oncoming Graylock half; Rich¬ 
ards accounted for another. Fred was free with 
only his opponents’ full-back between him and 
a touchdown! 

“ Yow! Wow! ” 

66 Aaay! Aaay! ” shouted the cadets deliri¬ 
ously as they danced up and down. Fred flew 
on, a weaving, beautiful, low runner. 

Now! Graylock’s full-back dived for him. Fred 
turned his right hip in toward the tackier; tossed 
him off; whirled around himself; was away 
again. 


THE GRAYLOCK GAME 131 

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” 

“ Touchdown! Touchdown! Touchdown! ” 
yelled Chatham. 

Fred was across the magic line; carried the 
ball to a point directly between the goal-posts. 

Chatham hats flew high. Cadets hugged and 
pounded one another. 

And Johnny standing in front of the line once 
more, his arms waving up and down yelled: “ A 
C. M. S., fellows! A C. M. S.! with a Barclay on 
the end of it! One! two! three! ” 

And was it given! It certainly was: with re¬ 
sounding vim! 

“ Ray! Ray! Ray! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M. S.! C. M. S.l C. M. S.! 

Barclay! Barclay! Barclay! 

Fred, old Boy! ” 

Six to nothing! 

Richards A kicked the goal. 

Seven then to nothing! 

“ Wow! ” 

A forward pass was the next thing as soon as 
Chatham again got the ball: Porky to Myron. 
And oh, what a beauty it was! Myron gained 
eighteen yards! 


I 3 2 THE CADET SERGEANT 

The half ended Chatham 21; Graylock 0. 

Never was there a better first half anywhere. 
For that matter never was there a better game 
anywhere. The school, though somewhat lighter 
than Graylock, was out for vengeance and it was 
taking it. 

The last game forever! Then it would be a 
star and something to remember! 

The third quarter was over with the score 34 
to 0. 

“ Jiminy Crickets! ” 

“ O boy! O boy! ” 

An odd thing now took place: no one under¬ 
stood it at the moment and only a few have 
understood it since. 

Barclay whispered to Schoharie: “Nothing 
but forward passes now for the rest of the game,” 
he ordered. “ Porky to Myron varying once in 
a while, just to fool ’em; Richards to old Clay; 
or me to Clay.” 

“ Are you crazy? ” came back the Silent Man. 

“ No. We’ve got the game won; haven’t we? ” 

“ Sure.” 

“ Then do what I tell you.” 

And Sco did. 

Never before had been seen anything like it! 


THE GRAYLOCK GAME 


133 


Schoharie varied them once in a while, “ just to 
fool ’em/’ as ordered. But it was Porky to 
Myron most of the time. And how that Porcu¬ 
pine did pass! Swift and low; then high and 
with a drop to them! And Myron grabbed them 
each time without fail; and shot away from that 
Graylock team like a scared deer. 

If delirium in the first three quarters had 
raged amongst the cadets on the west side lines, 
a permanent collective insanity seemed to have 
set in during the last quarter. The Chatham 
men danced and yelled and pounded one another; 
and laughed and even wept through sheer hap¬ 
piness and exhaustion. Graylock was simply 
swamped. 

“Oh! Oh! Oh! ” 

It is the last one minute of play! Porky has 
passed again. Myron once more is on the wing. 

Another touchdown! The third for that last 
quarter! And every one of them from Porky’s 
hand and Myron’s feet! 

The final score! It’s a shame almost to tell 
it: it was 55 to 0! 

Yes: football ended in a sky of glory—good 
enough to satisfy all. 

“ Taylor! Taylor! Taylor! ” shrieked the 


i 3 4 THE CADET SERGEANT 

cadets as the final blast came from the referee’s 
whistle. 


“ Angus! Angus! Angus! 

Myron, old boy! ” 

“Oh! Wow!” Johnny Hayes’ tears of joy 
actually came as he helped put Myron onto the 
shoulders of the mob which carried him off the 
field with every one yelling, “ Oh! Wow! ” 

“ Angus! Angus! Angus! 

Myron, old boy! ” 

Fred received cheers, too, as he walked alone 
toward the showers. But he waved them all to 
silence with a magnanimous smile and toss of 
his arms. 

“A funny gink,” thought Schoharie the Silent 
that night in the hallway near the library as he 
scratched his head. “ I never saw him play bet¬ 
ter. He’s the best football captain this school 
ever had. Hey you; come here! ” he called out 
suddenly as Barclay appeared in the doorway. 
“ I want to shake your mitt! ” 


CHAPTER XI 


TO FATTY WILLIAMS’ ALCOVE 

“ Think of a team with halves like Richards 
A and Porky Taylor! ” 

“ You bet and an end like old Myron Angus 
and a full-back like Fred Barclay! ” 

“ Xo wonder we trimmed ’em! ” 

Such generally was the final conclusion. 

But as to that last quarter. Well, it was most 
frequently discussed like this: “ I don’t under¬ 
stand Fred, though, running all those forward 
passes from Porky to Myron.” 

“ Why not? Fred had the game won; and he 
just wanted to wind up football right. So he let 
poor old Graylock have the works! ” 

“ I guess that’s it, all right.” 

But a few cadets held to other viewpoints. 

“ Don’t be an idiot, Jim,” declared George 
Case to Tibbotts. “ Old House is divided against 
itself like the house in the Bible Old Hank tells 
us about. Fred wanted to win the game; and 
after that he wanted to even up with Angus.” 

“ What you really think then,” broke in Tib- 

135 


136 the cadet sergeant 

botts, “ is that Fred figured if he called for 
enough forward passes Angus would fall down 
badly.” 

“ Certainly,” replied George. “ Fred figured 
both Porky and Myron would fall down. But the 
trouble is Fred is dumb; or he might have known, 
even if he doesn’t like ’em, that Porky and Myron 
are good.” 

“ Sure he might have,” agreed Tibbotts. 

Exactly the opposite view was taken by Scho¬ 
harie the Silent; while Johnny Hayes held an 
opinion about half-way between Case and the 
Silent Man. Schoharie explained slowly and 
quietly to Johnny the night after the game that 
Fred called for those passes just to make up for 
the fight Fred and Myron had had; and to let 
Myron be shown to the entire corps as one of 
the best ends who ever had played on the Chat¬ 
ham field. “ It was one of the biggest and most 
generous acts I’ve ever seen, John,” declared 
Schoharie. “And Fred Barclay, no matter what 
his faults are, was a peach to do it.” 

“ Maybe you’re right, Silent,” responded John. 
“ But I kind of think Fred was smart. I like 
Fred, too, pretty well at that. But this is what 
I think: he knew we had the game won, all right. 


TO FATTY WILLIAMS’ ALCOVE 137 

He called for the passes. He figured that if 
Porky or Myron should fail he, at least, would be 
a big man for having given them their chance; 
while if Myron and Porky should make good, 
Fred still would be a big man for giving such 
opportunities to Myron; and he’d be a great 
football captain to boot.” 

Schoharie’s thin lips broke into a fleeting 
smile. “ Pretty good dome you’ve got, Jawn,” he 
responded, “ though I don’t agree with you.” 

Thus football and the forward passes in the 
Graylock game went into history. 

Fred and Myron outwardly were very decent 
to each other after this; each actually tried hard 
to be nice to the other all the time; yet each in 
his own heart felt himself very deeply hurt by 
the other; and this, coupled with conflicting am¬ 
bitions for the spring and early summer, kept up 
a constant strain between them. 

Myron plunged into studies, military work, 
and light practice in the Gym for the far-off 
Top-Men Contest which would determine the 
team to represent Chatham in the Single Com¬ 
bats with St. James Durham in June; and he 
spent his spare time almost constantly with his 
Old House chums. 


138 the cadet sergeant 

Fred Barclay worked as hard as Myron did, 
and in the same things; but, unlike Myron, he 
soon began to spend his spare time not with Old 
House men but with George Case, Richards A, 
Tibbotts, and many others of Lovering Hall. 
Fred, too, appeared very happy after the Gray- 
lock game; for unquestionably his unpopularity 
occasioned by his attitude toward the abolition 
of football was vastly lessened by the victory over 
Graylock. 

Fred’s change in companions was noticeable 
almost immediately after the football season 
closed; and soon it was taken for granted that 
he would rather be with Lovering Hall men than 
his own crowd. It was true that he still always 
came to Old House meetings and seemed in¬ 
terested in the fellows and all the proceedings; 
but after the meetings were over he returned at 
once to his friends of Lovering Hall. 

“ Say, Freddy, what’s biting you? ” said Porky 
one day to him. “Aren’t Old House fellows good 
enough for you any more? ” 

“ Sure they are,” replied Fred as he whacked 
his fist playfully against Porky’s massive chest. 
“ But a man can go with other guys if he wants 
to once in a while; can’t he? ” 


TO FATTY WILLIAMS’ ALCOVE 139 

Porky assumed deep thought; then grinned 
until his ruddy face shone. “ The fellows are 
feeling pretty sorry just the same, Freddy,” he 
answered; “ and so am I.” 

“ Some things can’t he helped,” returned Fred 
enigmatically. 

“Aw, come on, Freddy, be the way you used 
to—for me, your uncle Porky,” pleaded the Por¬ 
cupine impulsively. 

It was no use, however. 

Just before Christmas vacation, Fatty Wil¬ 
liams was taken into Old House; and at about 
the same time the performance of Johnny Hayes’ 
show, “ The Hero’s Revenge,” was for some 
reason postponed to an indefinite date in the 
far-off future. 

Then the winter came and spring swept by; 
and now the early summer had arrived. The loss 
of football long since had gone by the stage of 
bitter hurt; besides the magnificence of the 
game’s exit had made up greatly for the sorrow 
of its going. 

It was May. The cadet corps was concerned 
primarily with the impending Military and 
Single Combat Tournament with St. James Dur¬ 
ham two weeks away, and the choice of the 



i 4 o THE CADET SERGEANT 

Senior Captain for next year, which, would be 
made at about the same date. 

On Sunday morning, May 19th, right after 

% 

Chapel, a crowd of cadets were on the green 
lawn in front of the main building, ready for 
whatever might happen. 

“Let me stand on your shoulders, Myron,” 
called out Porky Taylor, with a grin of antici¬ 
pated joy. “ Then you straighten out your arms 
and let Fatty and Silent swing from each one 
of ’em. See if you can hold us! I want to find 
out if you’re in good condition.” 

“All right,” answered Myron as he whipped 
off his cadet blouse and tossed it on the grass. 
Then he spread his legs wide and locked his 
hands in front of him. “ Stick your foot in my 
hands, Pork, and hop up.” 

Porky caught Myron by the back of the head; 
hopped; and in no time was balancing his sturdy 
form on the top of Myron’s broad shoulders. 
“ Easy there now, Porky,” cried Myron; and ex¬ 
tended his arms. “ Come on, Sco. Come on, 
Fat!” 

Schoharie the Silent and Fatty Williams each 
seized one of Myron’s arms between the shoulder 
and elbow and lifted himself off the ground as 


TO FATTY WILLIAMS’ ALCOVE 141 

though he were “ chinning ” a horizontal bar in 
the Gym. 

Myron’s body wabbled a second under the 
great weight; Porky balanced uncertainly a mo¬ 
ment ; and Schoharie and Fatty swung. Then all 
was well: Myron held them. 

“ Atta boy! Fine! ” applauded Johnny Hayes. 
“ Hey, fellows, here! ” he yelled to a crowd of 
boys a dozen yards off who promptly came up on 
the run. 

“ Good boy, Myron! ” cried out Richards A. 

“ Fine! ” declared Tibbotts. u Steady there, 
Porky! ” 

“ Hold it, Myron! ” cautioned Fred Barclay. 

“ Stand still there, Porky—you leatherhead! ” 
cried out Case. 

u ’Nuff! ’Nuff! ” Porky finally called from his 
perch. 

“ Wait a second,” answered Myron. “ Sco, you 
and Fat get down together. Easy now. One! 
two! down! ” 

The Silent Man and Fatty let their feet reach 
the ground gently. Porky leaped off Myron’s 
shoulders and landed a couple of yards away. 

“How’s that, boys?” laughed the Porcupine 
proudly. “ Old Samson here! The strongest 


142 THE CADET SERGEANT 

man in the world; and his three classy assistants! 
Step up and get your tickets, ladies and gentle¬ 
men ! ” 

“ It was a great exhibition of strength and 
training, all right,” offered Fred Barclay. 

“ I don’t know about the boxing, Myron,” con¬ 
fided Johnny Hayes a few minutes later; “but 
I’ll bet you’ll win in the Gym work and at wres¬ 
tling in the Top-Men Contest. Neither Richards 
A nor Porky is in your class. And I honestly 
don’t think Fred is, any more.” 

“ Cuckoo! ” exclaimed Myron with a quiet 
laugh. “You’re getting dizzy from the heat, 
Jawn! ” 

“ I may be cuckoo and dizzy with the heat, old 
sport,” murmured Johnny with a laugh as he and 
Myron started slowly toward the Armory. “ But 
a week from next Tuesday is the Top-Men Con¬ 
test; and I’ll bet my old shoes and shirts and 
hats you win at least two out of the three events 
then. You’re in fine trim,” Johnny ended as they 
stopped in the Armory doorway. 

“ Fred’s been training, too,” commented Myron. 

“ That’s all right,” returned Johnny. “ Just 
you keep on plugging, and you’ll not only come 
out of the Top-Men Contest with flying colors 


TO FATTY WILLIAMS’ ALCOVE 


i43 


but you’ll trim up St. James proper; and then 
the Senior Captaincy is yours, hands down. 
You’ll see.” 

“ You’re a good-enough egg, Jawn,” laughed 
Myron as he handed his chum a swift poke in 
the ribs. “ But they’re going to lock you up in 
the Daffy Home if you keep on.” 

For answer, John H. Hayes opened his big 
mouth wide and a grin spread over his long, red 
face. “ Maybe so; maybe so,” came from him. 
“ But now I would speak to thee on a matter of 
grand import: I think it a noble idea to put 
Fatty Williams out of business at Inspection this 
afternoon. Want to be in on it? ” 

“ I do not,” chuckled Myron instantly. 

“ Why not? ” 

a Because I’m not entirely dumb yet. Didn’t 
Fatty nearly amputate your left tonsil last fall 
with a siphon of soda just because you rode him 
on a rail? ” 

“What’s that to do with this?” John H. 
Hayes didn’t like Myron’s reference a bit. 

“ To do with it! ” demanded Myron without 
mercy. “ Isn’t the School Dance next Saturday 
night? ” 

“ Yes,” admitted Johnny. 


i 4 4 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“You and I are going to take girls; aren’t 
we? ” 

Again Johnny admitted an important truth. 

“ Well, Fatty isn’t. And if he isn’t and I am, 
I’m not going to give Fatty any cause for evening 
up scores with me on that night.” 

Johnny speculated a moment hut answered 
bravely, “ I’ll take a chance against that old Fat 
any day.” 

“ Go to it then,” Myron laughed. “And, Cap¬ 
tain Potter, smite him hip and thigh. But smite 
him alone. As for me—I admit I’m skeered! ” 

“Porky! Oh, Porky!” yelled Johnny as he 
turned back toward the lawn immediately that 
Myron disappeared into the depths of the Ar¬ 
mory. “ Come on here a sec! ” 

“ What do you want? ” asked Porky, approach¬ 
ing Johnny with a grin. 

Johnny explained at once a secret scheme 

against the unsuspecting Fatty Williams which 

• 

was to be put into effect forthwith; while the 
May sun sparkled on his own blond head and 
seemed actually to dance amongst the tow 
bristles on the top of Porky’s round dome. 

“ Did you hear about the swipings that have 
been going on, though, Johnny? ” whispered 


TO FATTY WILLIAMS’ ALCOVE 145 

Porky as the two hurried quickly upward to 
Fat’s alcove in Dormitory H. “A lot of fellows 
have been having money swiped from them.” 

“ The deuce you say! Who?” 

“ Case has lost a lot. He was just telling 
about it,” went on Porky. “ He says he thinks 
it’s that poor little fish of a Thomas Hiller who’s 
been taking it.” 

“ Do you believe him? ” asked Johnny. 

“ Don’t know,” replied Porky. “ He’s an awful 
liar; isn’t he? ” 

“ Sure is,” said Johnny. 

“ Hardly think he’d accuse a fellow of that, 
though, unless he’s really lost it. Do you? 
Honest, now?” 

“ Might,” returned the icy Johnny. “ Wouldn’t 
put much by Case if he wanted anything.” 

“ What do you think he’d want? ” 

“ Don’t know. That little Hiller kid is a queer 
nut.” 

“ He sure is that,” agreed the Porcupine. 
“ Case says Hiller has been bringing him and 
Tibbotts and Richards a lot of chocolates and 
gum out of slot-machines lately. The kid’s been 
sneaking off bounds when he couldn’t get per¬ 
mission and skipping down-town.” 


146 the cadet sergeant 

“ Has Case reported his big losses yet? ” in¬ 
quired the skeptical Johnny. 

“ Don’t think so,” answered Porky. “ He says 
he wants to catch the man first, or at least make 
sure of him.” 

“ Don’t believe he lost any, then,” concluded 
Johnny. “ But I just happened to think, Porky, 
that kid Hiller brought Myron a bunch of gum 
a few days ago and another bunch this morn¬ 
ing. Myron told me about it. Money-swiping 
never entered my head; but I did think for a 
second that Hiller might have been up to lead- 
slug work again. You know, I shouldn’t be sur¬ 
prised if he really did do the things they said 
about him when he first came.” 

They now reached the doorway of Dormitory 
H wherein dwelled Fatty. It was noontime; the 
Dormitory was empty. 

“ Aha, me trusty,” breathed Johnny, “ luck is 
with us! ” 

And with broad grins on their pious-looking 
faces they tiptoed into the Dormitory. 


CHAPTER XII 


TROUSERS AND TOES 

“ Aha ! ” breathed Porky with a chuckle, “ let’s 
to the dirty work! ” He stopped short; turned 
to Johnny; inflated his chest. “ Take a swat at 
that, thou slave! ” he suddenly commanded, his 
blue eyes dancing. “ Take a swat! ” And, 
Johnny not complying with sufficient speed, was 
bumped promptly all over the Dormitory. 

“ Quit it! Quit it! you big goat! ” appealed 
Johnny. “ We’re on serious business; and the 
enemy is Fatty, not me! ” 

“ Coward! ” snorted Porky, but desisted. “Are 
you sure Fatty has on his old pants? ” 

“ I saw ’em; and he’s got to change ’em for 
Inspection,” said Johnny. 

Every Sunday afternoon at three o’clock an 
inspection of military equipment was held in the 
Armory; after which, with rifles put away in 
their racks on the sides of the wall, the cadets 
were put through a short drill in the setting-up 
exercises. 


147 


148 the cadet sergeant 

Johnny Hayes desired revenge upon Fatty, not 
because of the crimes Fatty had committed 
against him, but rather because vengeance upon 
Fatty was considered by Johnny as his own 
private possession. Didn’t he think Fatty was 
one of the finest fellows in the world? And 
really wasn’t Fatty one of them ? And hadn’t he, 
John H. Hayes, put Fat into Old House? What 
better rights could any one have for playing a 
joke on him? Besides, there was always, away 
back in Johnny’s brain, the remembrance of that 
splash of soda-water against his left tonsil, as 
Myron had so rudely put it; though, in all jus¬ 
tice, it should be noted that when Johnny hunted 
for personal justification, this was always the 
last reason to come up. 

Now Fatty Williams’ cadet dress-pants fitted 
Fatty with a perfection of nearness. Fatty was 
so built that his pants just naturally would be 
tight. At Chatham on Sunday the boys did the 
setting-up exercises with dress-coats off and 
neatly folded at their feet; and went through the 
drill in clean white shirts, their trousers held up 
by tightly buckled belts. 

One of the setting-up exercises was to lock 
thumbs with arms extended above the head, then 


TROUSERS AND TOES 


149 

swing forward and touch finger-tips to the floor 
without bending the knees. 

This exercise, viewed from the rear, depended 
for its sanctity upon the stoutness of the rear 
seam in cadet pants. 

Well aware of this and of his own expansive¬ 
ness, Fatty Williams always had seen to it that 
the rear seams in his particular pants were stout 
indeed. And both John H. Hayes and Porky 
Taylor knew of Fatty’s secret care. 

“ Let me labor well this merry day,” mur¬ 
mured Johnny as he reached Fat’s alcove and 
opened the blade of his jackknife. 

“ Here they are, Jawn! ” whispered Porky as 
he took from a hook in the closet a neatly 
pressed pair of gray trousers. 

“We won’t slit all the seam,” said Johnny. 
“ Fat might get on to it.” 

“No; let’s just slit enough,” chortled Porky. 
“ O man! O boy! ” 

Thus the deed was done. 

At three o’clock the bugler sounded “ as¬ 
sembly ” and the battalion fell into line. One 
hundred and twenty men in double rank stood as 
stiff as ramrods. Their tightly fitting gray dress- 
coats were studded with shining round brass but- 


150 THE CADET SERGEANT 

tons on their high collars, broad chests, and 
short swallow-tails. And the boys were as stiff 
as they looked, too: with their closely visored 
cadet caps, every man at attention, his right 
white-gloved hand holding a rifle tight to the 
body and next to the white, brass-buckled belt, 
his left hand barely touching a black-leather 
bayonet scabbard. 

The inspection was over quickly. Rifles and 
belts were put back into the rifle racks. Then 
Senior Captain Atkins W took command in place 
of the Commandant to put the men through the 
setting-up exercises. Captain Atkins stood in 
the rear of the line. Dress-coats were instantly 
in neat piles at cadet feet. A command rang out: 
over swung the men to touch their finger-tips to 
the floor without bending a knee, when sud¬ 
denly there came an ominous sound: “ Rip! 
Zip! ” 

“ Ooh! Ooh! ” groaned Fatty with an instinc¬ 
tive knowledge of the calamity and the cause. 
“ Ooh! ” Fatty then waited without moving for 
the axe of discipline to land on him. 

“ Zowie! ” murmured Porky under his breath. 

“What’s up, little one?” thought Johnny. 

“ Private Williams, fall out! ” thundered Cap- 


TROUSERS AND TOES 


151 

tain Atkins W. “And take ten demerits. Your 
pants are a wreck! ” 

Except that Sergeant Myron Angus again 
chanced to be acting temporarily as Sergeant 
of the Guard that night and that Fatty Williams 
and Richards A lived in Dormitory H on the top 
floor and at the east end of the main building, 
and that Johnny and Porky lived in Dormitory 
E on the same floor at the west end of the main 
building, nothing of great importance might have 
followed the splitting of Fatty’s trousers. 

But Fatty swore immediate death and destruc¬ 
tion to his two chums. He had noted with sus¬ 
picion that morning, anyway, the sudden disap¬ 
pearance into the school building of Johnny and 
Porky immediately after the gymnastics on the 
lawn of Myron, Porky, and himself. 

“You two guys think you’re funny; don’t 
you? ” he declared when the inspection was over. 

And the manner in which Johnny exploded: 
“ Haw Haw! ” and Porky chuckled and butted 
him with his shoulder convinced Fat beyond 
doubt that the guilty pair were before him. 

So that night long after “ taps,” Fatty slipped 
down the hall to Dormitory E; and carried with 
him a long piece of twine, both ends of which 


152 THE CADET SERGEANT 

were fastened into slip-knots and to the center 
of which were tied two tomato-cans about an inch 
apart. Fatty also carried a broom w T ith him. 

Both Johnny and Porky, as became two 
healthy boys, were sound, sound sleepers. Fat 
tiptoed to his work. The night was hot. On the 
iron military cots of both John and Porky the 
top sheets lay loosely, especially around the 
sleepers’ feet. Porky’s big toe even showed 
clearly in the moonlight. Fat placed the noose 
of the slip-knot of his long piece of twine over 
that big toe and drew it gently to tightness. 
With twine in hand, but held so lightly that it 
would not awake the sleeper, Fatty then stepped 
quickly and with much care to the foot of 
Johnny’s bed, two alcoves away. Johnny still 
lay at peace. 

Fatty raised the sheet cautiously from one of 
Johnny’s feet and adjusted the slip-knot on the 
other end of his twine to Johnny’s right big toe. 
He pulled it taut, slowly, gently, as he had done 
with Porky. The tomato-cans tied to the middle 
of the twine, Fatty now placed on the dormitory 
floor midway between the alcoves of his victims. 
“ Now you dogs of the palefaces,” thought Fat, 
“ take your medicine! ” 


TROUSERS AND TOES 


153 

Whereat from the foot of Johnny’s cot Fat 
took his broom and drew the bristles of it across 
John’s upper lip and under his nose. 

John sniffled: “Whew!” Fat brought the 
bristles back the opposite way. 

“ Phooow! ” blew Johnny now only partially 
awake. 

Fatty poked the broom against John’s nostrils. 

“Ooh!” bawled Johnny suddenly. Fatty 
poked harder. 

“ Get out of here! ” And Johnny with a roar 
was up. 

But Fat stood his ground a moment longer. 
He batted Johnny over the head. “ Dog of the 
palefaces! ” he thundered. “ Die where you are 
in your bed ! ” Then ran as though his life de¬ 
pended on it; and took his broom with him, not 
wishing to leave any evidence. 

Well, Johnny gave chase. And right there is 
where the real trouble occurred. “ Oou! Wow!” 
he yelled and came to a quick stop. “ My toe! 
My toe! ” 

“ Holy sweet cats! ” bawled Porky suddenly as 
he awoke in the alcove beyond. “ Oh! Oh! Oh! 
My toe! My toe! ” 

The tomato-cans rattled and rang as the two 


154 THE CADET SERGEANT 

big toes pulled in opposite directions. The whole 
Dormitory now was awake and in an uproar. 

“ Lay off me! You—you big gook! ” thundered 
Porky in righteous rage. “ If you’re doing that, 
Johnny, I’ll—murder you!” 

“ Doing what? ” bellowed back Johnny. “ Hey, 
quit it, you crazy nut! Oh, my toe! My toe! ” 
And Johnny danced around on one foot at one 
end of Dormitory E as Porky danced around on 
one foot at the other end. And both yelled and 
cried in pain and distress; and every time they 
danced, their toes hurt more. And the tomato- 
cans rattled and the fellows around them roared. 

Finally, just as Porky made a great leap for 
Johnny, his wrath beyond him, the electric light 
was switched on; and in the doorway stood 
Myron Angus, the Sergeant of the Guard. 

“ My toe’s broken! ” thundered Porky. 

“ Mine is, too! ” cried Johnny. 

The gang looked on and laughed wickedly; for 
there the two of them stood tied together by the 
big toes with a couple of plebeian tomato-cans 
between them. 

Now entered Richards A in pajamas. He was 
grinning and silent, his black hair smooth and 
shining, and he stood behind Angus. 


TROUSERS AND TOES 


i55 

t 

“ Get back to your bunks right off,” ordered 
Myron quietly. “And as to you two, Taylor 
and Hayes, unhorse your toe-lines quickly and 
don’t let me hear any more out of you.” 

Porky squatted on the dormitory floor and 
struggled over the twine. “ I can’t get it off, 
sir,” said he with a laugh. 

“ Get down there and help him, Richards,” 
ordered Myron. “ What are you doing out of 
your alcove, anyway? ” 

“ Thought there was a murder, sir,” responded 
Richards A innocently. “ Heard you rush by, 
sir; didn’t know it was you; ran into your alcove 
to see what had happened; found you gone, sir. 
That’s all, sir.” 

“ So you came here to pick up the bodies,” put 
in Myron with a grin. “ Is that it? ” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Richards. 

“Fix up Porky’s—I mean Taylor W’s—toe; 
then beat it back to your hole and be quick about 
it.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Myron cut the toe-line with his jackknife, thus 
separating the two victims. 

All the cadets went back to their alcoves now, 
save Porky and Richards. Myron stood over this 


156 THE CADET SERGEANT 

pair a moment; then walked into Johnny’s 
alcove. 

As Myron disappeared Richards A whispered 
to Porky: “ I swiped enough slot-machine choco¬ 
late out of Myron’s alcove when I was in there 
just now to start a store. When he goes to bed, 
come in and we’ll have a feast.” 

Porky seemed suddenly to turn cold. “ You 
got that in Myron’s alcove? ” he asked scarce 
above his breath. 

“ Sure I did. Aren’t you on? ” 

“ No,” whispered Porky. “ I don’t know what 
you mean.” 

“ What you trying to do, Pork, kid me? ” 

“No,” repeated Porky, now almost in terror. 
“ No.” 

Porky held his own counsel after that, and 
held it tight throughout that night; he knew of 
nothing else to do. He could place his hands on 
nothing in what Richards had said which actu¬ 
ally could hurt Myron. Yet a fear was on Porky 
for Myron, a very real fear in which lead slugs 
and that squint-eyed new cadet, Thomas Hiller, 
and the whole Lovering Hall gang were hope¬ 
lessly mixed up. Besides, Fred Barclay was now 
with Case and his crowd all the time; and Fred 


TROUSERS AND TOES 


157 


Barclay was a dumb-bell (Porky was at last 
ready to admit that) ; and they’d work Fred 
against Myron. And what was Myron doing, 
anyway, taking all that chocolate from Hiller? 
Myron was in training. Porky stood the strain 
throughout the next morning; then he burst with 
the story and his own feelings to Johnny. It was 
immediately after dinner. The two boys were on 
the sidewalk by the horse-block. 

“ I’m—not sure that Hiller gave that stuff to 
Myron at all,” concluded Johnny as Porky fin¬ 
ished. 

“ Why not? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know. I’m not; that’s all. I’m 
going to ask Myron myself.” 

“ Shucks; that’s just the idea!” exclaimed 
Porky. “ Wish I’d thought to do that a long 
while ago. There’s Myron now. Here’s our 
chance to ask him.” 

u Hiller didn’t give me any chocolates at all,” 
answered Myron with a laugh when J ohnny had 
put the question. “ Didn’t you fellows have 
enough trouble last night without looking for 
more now? ” 

“ Richards told Porky that Hiller gave ’em to 
you,” continued John. 


158 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ He said,” corrected Porky, “ that he himself 
swiped some from Myron.” 

u I didn’t have any to swipe,” said Myron with 
a smile. 

“ Then I’m on! ” declared Porky. 

“ The doggone-” snapped out Johnny. 

“ Oh, what’s the use! ” 

Myron’s bright face held a curious, surprised 
look in it. 



CHAPTER XIII 


A BLIGHTED BEING 

“ Say, fellows, a barge has stuck on a rock 
about fifty yards above the Falls! ” called out 
Myron as, on the following Saturday, he ran up 
to Johnny and Porky on the lawn. 

“ You don’t say! ” exploded the other two. 

“ T. J. just got the news,” continued Myron. 
“A couple of men are on her. I’m going to the 
Falls. Better come along.” 

“ You bet! ” answered Porky. 

“ Sure! ” responded Johnny. 

“ Can I go with you, please, Angus? I’ve got 
permission,” spoke a little boy who now came up 
to them. 

“All right, Hiller.” 

Porky and Johnny glanced at each other. 

“We’ll get permission, too, and be back in a 
sec,” declared Johnny. 

As Johnny and Porky started to race away, a 
decrepit Ford swung around the corner of the 
main building. 


159 


160 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Going to the Falls? ” yelled Myron. 

“ Yep; jump in,” answered the driver. “ I got 
to hustle.” 

“ Oh, fellows! ” called Myron after his chums. 
“ Have got a ride. See you there. They’ll be 
taking those men off the barge any time now.” 

“ Sorry I can’t take you up where the boat is,” 
said the driver, as they reached the southern part 
of the city and stopped in front of a drug store. 
“ I have a date the other way.” 

“ I want to go in and get some gum, anyway, 
Angus, please,” put in Hiller. “ I’ll only be a 
minute. I know right where the machine is.” 

Myron followed Hiller into the drug store. 
The small boy stepped up to the slot-machine; 
inserted a coin, and pulled out gum. 

“ I been laying for you boys since last fall! ” 
growled a rough voice suddenly from behind 
them. “ Especially for this little one! ” 

Little Hiller made no move. Myron swung 
around and faced the man. “ What do you mean, 
sir? ” 

“ Somebody’s been sticking lead slugs in mv 
slot-machine,” replied the man, “ and I think it’s 
you two.” 

“ Did you put in a lead slug just now, Hiller? ” 


A BLIGHTED BEING 161 

Myron whirled the little boy around by the 
shoulders. 

“ N-no, sir.” 

“ Honest? ” 

“ H-honest, sir.” 

Myron looked squarely at the druggist: “ Open 
your machine then, sir; will you please? That’s 
only fair.” 

“All right,” replied the druggist. But when 
he had done so, not a lead slug was found. 

“ There you are, sir! ” declared Myron. 

“ Humph! ” grunted the man, somewhat em¬ 
barrassed. “ Something’s wrong here, just the 
same.” 

“ Something is,” replied Myron. “ But don’t 
try that again, if you please.” 

The barge still was stuck on a rock near the 
brink when Thomas Hiller and Myron Angus 
reached the river. It had broken away from its 
moorings two miles to the southward, and the 
current had carried it to its position almost over 
the Falls. People were everywhere along the 
bank. From the second story of a building at 
the water’s edge men from the life-saving station 
had shot a line to the barge. The marooned men 
had made it fast to a stanchion. A basket had 



162 THE CADET SERGEANT 


been run out on this line to take the men off. 
One man now got into the basket and was in 
process of being hauled back to shore when sud¬ 
denly something snapped; the basket shivered in 
mid air; then dropped into the raging river 
below. But its occupant was quick as a panther; 
he reached for the wire; threw a leg over it; and 
was safe for the time being. 

Porky and Johnny had now come up; and they 
stood with Myron and Hiller. 

“ That guy’ll never get back to shore on that 
wire,” murmured Johnny. “ I can tell by the 
look in his face.” 

“You’re right,” replied Porky. “What do 
you think, Myron? ” 

Both turned to their chum; but Myron no 
longer was at their side. 

“ Thanks, boy; but I can do it myself all 
right,” a life-saver in the building from which the 
line had been shot was saying a few moments 
later. “ I’ll crawl out and bring him in. I’ve 
done jobs like that lots of times.” 

“ I’d just as soon, sir, if you want me to,” 
answered Myron, his voice very low. “ I’ve been 
practising a lot lately in Gym work.” 

A number of people including Porky and 


A BLIGHTED BEING 163 

Johnny had followed Myron as he rushed into 
the building; and among them was the drug-store 
keeper. 

“Who is that boy?” the owner of the drug 
store demanded. 

“ He’s the man who saved the life of one of 
our fellows at the power-house last fall. That’s 
who he is, sir,” Johnny Hayes spoke up, his voice 
shaking. 

“And he’s the best man I know, too! ” put in 
Porky. 

“ Well, I’ll be hanged! ” ejaculated the drug¬ 
gist as he peered at Myron. “ That was the first 
day, too, when that little kid who’s with him 
came into my store! ” 

“ Hello, fellows! ” greeted Myron quietly as he 
turned away from the life-saver to his two chums. 
“Let’s stick around until they get those men 
ashore. Then we’d better hustle for school. Say, 
do you realize that there’s going to be a dance 
to-night? ” 

“ Porky remembers, all right,” answered 
Johnny. “ No doubt about that. He’s going to 
have a girl.” 

“ So are you, Jawn,” replied Porky. “ What 
you kicking about? ” 


164 the cadet sergeant 

“Well, I’m going to take one, too,” laughed 
Myron. “ I wish those guys would hurry up. I 
want to see the end of this.” 

The boys went out again to the river bank; 
and there watched the life-saver as he pushed a 
new basket in front of him and crawled out over 
the line toward the man who still hung des¬ 
perately to his position high above the dangerous 
river. 

It was but the work of a short time, however, 
before the rescue was completed. Then the 
basket was run out once more on its small trolley- 
wheel over the wire to the barge; and the second 
man was brought ashore. 

“ I wouldn’t like a life-saver’s job,” announced 
Johnny as Porky, Myron, little Hiller, and he 
reached school some time later, “not for John 
H. Hayes! ” 

“ You may need one, though, before this night 
is over,” replied Myron; “ only about three- 
quarters of our men are looking out for girls 
to-night, I hear; and not more than half of 
Lovering Hall are doing it.” 

“ That’s a funny note! ” shot back Porky. 
“ Who told you that? ” 

“ Fred told me,” responded Myron. “ He isn’t 


A BLIGHTED BEING 165 

looking out for any girl, and neither is Fatty nor 
Case nor Tibbotts nor Richards A.” 

“ Oou, Jiminy! ” exclaimed Porky and grinned 
as he pretended to shiver. 

“ You’d better say ‘ Oou,’ ” chimed in Johnny 
with the hope in his heart that if trouble arose, 
both Porky and Myron would “ land ” into part 
of it also. 

Trouble did arise. Since last Christmas vaca¬ 
tion Johnny had stored in his breast soft 
thoughts of a black-eyed young lady from Buf¬ 
falo, by name, Beulah Davis; and he had invited 
her to attend the dance; Porky expected a pretty 
damsel from Niagara, named Ida Lansing, who 
recently had battered up fairly well his stoutly 
encased heart; and Myron was to look after a 
tall brunette from Lockport: Miss Edith Swan. 

Johnny’s mistake took place at seven-fifteen 
that evening. The girls had just arrived and 
were “prinking” in Bingo’s study, which over¬ 
looked the walk from the first floor of the main 
building. As an aid in the preparation for the 
St. James Tournament, Captain Atkins, a few 
days before, had given Johnny the duty of per¬ 
fecting in military drill some of last fall’s new 
cadets. Nothing ever suited Johnny more. 


166 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Johnny was a private; and Atkins W had as¬ 
signed him temporarily the work of a Corporal. 
Johnny had drilled those new lads until they 
could scarcely stand or see. Now he proposed 
to avail himself of a perquisite of his job. He 
rounded up an even half-dozen of his victims. 
“ Go get your belts and rifles, you guys! ” he 
commanded gruffly. “ It’s only a week till we 
meet St. James. We’re going to have a drill.” 

Some hesitated. 

“ Get a move on you! ” thundered Johnny. 

No more was necessary. In no time Johnny 
had his squad together with rifles on their shoul¬ 
ders and himself at their head. 

“ What you doing? ” yelled Porky. 

Johnny paid him no attention. “ Squad! ” 
cried out Johnny. “ Forward!—March! ” 

Forward they marched: down the broad gravel 
driveway before the main building until they 
reached Bingo’s study. Then Johnny swung 
them, squad front, directly under Bingo’s win¬ 
dow. “ Squad!—Halt! ” he sang out. 

With a click of feet and a bang of rifle butts 
to the ground the squad obeyed. Johnny never 
batted an eye, much less glanced up toward the 
window. “ Right shoulder!—Arms! ” he ordered. 


A BLIGHTED BEING 167 

Click! Click! Click! the squad responded. 

“ Order!—Arms! ” 

Click! Click! Click! 

In Bingo’s window now were three feminine 
faces. 

“ Port!—Arms! ” roared Johnny. 

Whereat several young gentlemen who now 
stood behind Johnny’s men, looked up at Bingo’s 
window and roared, louder than had Johnny with 
his orders. 

It is a dangerous thing in a military school, 
however, to guy an honest cadet when he is drill¬ 
ing a squad. It simply isn’t done. 

So, after one roar, the roarers were quite 
ashamed of themselves, hurried away toward the 
Armory, and left the field to Johnny and his 
squad. 

“ Oh, that was just lovely of you, John, to let 
us see that drill,” murmured Beulah as Johnny 
stood before her in the hall a few minutes later. 
“ Do you always drill them? ” 

“ Oh, generally,” answered Johnny. “ Pretty 
good, eh ? ” 

“ Wonderful! ” cooed Beulah. 

“ Hey, you! ” offered Porky when Beulah had 
retired once more to Bingo’s study, “ I think 


168 THE CADET SERGEANT 


you need a guardian! ” Porky had been eyeing 
Johnny from the library. 

“ What’s the matter? ” asked Johnny as he 
ran a long red hand over his long blond hair. “ I 
didn’t do anything.” 

“ m ! ” withered Porky who now stood close 
to his chum in the doorway under the Carpe 
Diem clock. “You didn’t do anything! You 
didn’t start anything, either! Showing off like 
that! You blithering idiot! ” 

“ I wasn’t showing off,” protested the fairly 
disturbed Johnny. “I wasn’t, Pork; honest.” 

“ Porky! ” gurgled the Porcupine with deep 
menace. 

“ Porky! ” repeated Johnny. 

“ I don’t suppose you saw that gang behind 
your squad; did you? Fatty and Fred and Case 
and Tibbotts and Richards? And I don’t sup¬ 
pose they saw those girls in Bingo’s windows; 
did they? And I don’t suppose they knew what 
you were up to either—you poor, slim-faced, 
cuckoo-eared skate! ” 

“ What’s the trouble, Pork? ” 

“ Porky! ” 

J ohnny swallowed. “ Porky, I mean.” 

“ Trouble! ” scathed Porky. “ If there is any 


A BLIGHTED BEING 169 

trouble, your pusillanimous life is over! Re¬ 
member ! ”—and Porky’s blue eyes twinkled dan¬ 
gerously—“ Myron and me, also, are looking 
after girls to-night! ” 

“ Me are; are me? ” mentioned Johnny. 

“ Get out! ” roared the Porcupine. 

And Johnny obeyed. 

The Chatham Armory that night was festooned 
gaily with flags, and red, white, and blue bunt¬ 
ing. By eight-thirty the cadet band was play¬ 
ing ragtime of the very latest adaptation from 
music of older, if not better, days. Already 
cadets in dress uniforms alight with shining 
brass buttons had started to dance w T ith prettily 
attired partners. Fifty couples at least were on 
the floor. The east doorway was crowded with 
others who chatted and laughed in pleasant, 
careless fashion. 

“ Where’s that Johnny?” inquired Myron as 
he came into the doorway with Edith Swan. 

“ Don’t know and don’t care,” responded 
Porky as he grinned possessively into the bright 
brown eyes of Miss Lansing at his side. 

“ Beulah was waiting for him, Myron, a little 
while ago, up near the library,” offered Ida Lan¬ 
sing. 


170 THE CADET SERGEANT 

A long stairway in tlie hall outside this en¬ 
trance to the Armory led to Downing Hall above. 

A commotion at the top of the stairs now 
caused all heads to turn upward with a common 
impulse. 

“ Look at it! ” ejaculated Porky with a groan. 
“ Oh, look at it! ” 

And there was Johnny in pants and dancing- 
pumps but with no cadet dress coat and no shirt 
save a B. V. D. There he w T as, his body and legs 
dangling over the banister at the top of the 
stairs, while a gang of masked cadets lowered 
him slowdy by a rope under his arms down among 
the cadets and girls who now crowded into the 
hallway. 

“ Wow! Wow! ” 

“ Oh, Jawn, there! ” Everybody yelled and 
laughed. 

Dancing stopped on the instant. The band 
ceased playing. And Johnny, tossing and strug¬ 
gling, was finally landed safely in the middle of 
the jeering crow T d. Once on his feet, however, he 
made a mad rush through the press and escaped 
up the front stairs to the library, where he 
flopped into a chair, exhausted through shame 
and utter sadness. 


A BLIGHTED BEING 171 

“ Never mind, Johnny/’ soothed Beulah Davis 
softly as she stood smiling gently upon his bare 
arms and B. Y. D. shirt. “ You couldn’t help it 
if they kidnapped you. Where’s your coat? ” 

Johnny placed his elbows on his knees and his 
head in his hands. “ Don’t know wiiere it is,” he 
moaned. u I’ll never need a coat again.” 

" What’s the matter, old fellow?” Johnny 
turned a woe-begone face up to the genial Com¬ 
mandant who at that moment entered the room. 

“ Nothing, sir; nothing’s the matter,” answered 
Johnny with another moan. u I may die, sir. I 
don’t know.” 

“ You’re just a blighted being; is that it, old 
man? ” chuckled T. J. kindly. 

“ Yes, sir; that’s it: I guess I’m just a blighted 

being.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


SMASHING THE DANCE 


“ Hey, quit it! ” 

“ Have a heart, you guys!” 

Yells both masculine and feminine came from 
the hall outside the Armory. For as Johnny dis¬ 
appeared, pillows, blankets, and a mattress from 
a cadet cot landed down upon the heads of girls 
and boys. 

The masked band had done good work. 

“ You will dance; will you? ” gloated a voice 
from behind a mask. 

Myron, Porky, Schoharie, and a dozen fighting 
men of Old House, of Lovering Hall and of the 
neutral body bounded up after their enemy three 
steps at a time. 

The big fight took place in the upper hall. But 
here Bingo nailed them. “ Have 6 assembly 7 
sounded at once, Sergeant Angus ! 77 the C. O. 
ordered and made an ineffectual grab at a masked 
head of hair. 

“ Yow! Wow!” yelled the bandits as they 
scattered. 


172 


SMASHING THE DANCE 173 

“ Go back to tbe Armory! ” ordered Bingo to 
those who remained. 

Myron and the other doughty defenders of 
honor and the fair sex obeyed. 

The Bugler sounded “ assembly.” 

“ Battalion!—Attention! ” It was now T. J.’s 
commanding voice. 

Every cadet in the Armory, whether with or 
without a dancing partner, jumped into line. 

Colonel Crawford, his gray face grave, but 
his hawk-like eyes taking in everything, stood at 
Colonel Meadows’ elbow. The excitement was 
so great that no wonderment was felt because 
of the large number of absentees when the bat¬ 
talion roll was called. During many minutes 
after “ assembly ” had sounded, men who were 
as innocent as newly fallen snow kept drifting 
into the Armory from all parts of the building; 
some with girls, others alone. It was a reason¬ 
able supposition that many would not have heard 
the bugle at all; and some, having heard, would 
not have believed in the truth of it. For was 
not a dance on? Some one is getting funny, many 
easily would conclude. 

Those masked bandits were well aware of all 
this, and well did they use the situation for their 


174 THE CADET SERGEANT 

own ends. Several of them now approached the 
open Armory windows cautiously and let fly a 
half-dozen sofa-pillows, the last of their ammuni¬ 
tion, at the soldierly line of cadets which faced 
them. 

The discipline corps endured the attack un¬ 
moved. 

“ Gentlemen,” spoke Bingo as the barrage 
ended, “ some people may sleep hard to-night; 
but some people, before all is finished, I hope 
will hardly sleep because of the number of lines 
they may be compelled to learn in a given time.” 

This helped a lot. A grunt of satisfaction 
swept over the cadet line. Titters and laughter 
came from the young ladies throughout the room. 
The masked bandits at the windows made hasty 
retreats; and wondered just when the axe would 
fall on them. 

“ My apologies go to the ladies,” continued 
Colonel Crawford. “ I am sure you men as in¬ 
dividuals will supplement these sentiments. Now 
that the enemy is routed, we’ll go on with the 
dance.” The C. O. turned to Colonel Meadows, 
his lips moving inaudibly. 

“ Battalion! ” cried out T. J. “ Dismissed! ” 

The band struck up immediately; the dance 


SMASHING THE DANCE 175 

began again; once more the doorway was 
crowded. 

Soon, however, there appeared, a minute or 
two apart, several innocent-looking gentlemen, 
immaculate and trim in their gray dress uni¬ 
forms, who promptly mingled sociably with the 
crowd. And they were Cadet Corporal Tibbotts, 
Cadet Private Fatty Williams, Cadet Lieutenant 
Fred Barclay, Cadet Second Sergeant Case, and 
Cadet Corporal Richards A. 

“ Yah—Yah—Yah. Yah Yah Yah Yah!” 
burst forth Porky grinning as, with Miss Lans¬ 
ing, he danced by Fred and Fatty. “ I hope you 
guys hardly sleep for a month! ” 

But neither Fatty nor Fred spoke or changed 
expression. 

Bingo Crawford and T. J. knew pretty well 
how to handle boys when a tempest was upon 
them. 

“ The first thing, sir,” said the latter, with a 
smile, u is to let the wind die down. That will 
help some.” 

“ Right, Colonel Meadows,” replied Bingo in 
his low voice and in return flashed a quick smile 
at the Commandant. “ Let’s you and me go now 
and get a dance.” Which may show a lot of 


176 the cadet sergeant 

things more or less important, but about which 
no good can be attained by amplification. 

“ That was a bum trick, this rough-housing to¬ 
night; wasn’t it, sir?” 

Colonel Crawford turned his head quickly to a 
boy who had come up to him. It was nearing 
midnight. Bingo was standing quietly in the 
Armory watching the dance. 

“Was it, Case?” he asked. “Did you have 
any part in it? ” 

“ No, sir,” replied Case. 

“Very good,” pronounced Bingo. 

George grew uncomfortable. “ I guess I’ll— 
I’ll be going, sir.” 

“What? To your bunk so soon? The dance 
won’t be over for ten minutes.” 

“ I know, sir; but I guess I’ll be going.” 
George felt his cheeks beginning to turn red as 
he moved away; for he had noticed a slight smile 
flick across the C. O.’s face just then, and for 
some reason George felt discomfiture because of 
that smile. 

He hurried up-stairs toward his alcove; and 
came upon little Hiller in the upper hallway. 

Hiller’s small fists were clenched tightly as 
though over something; and at sight of Case the 


SMASHING THE DANCE 177 

little boy shoved the fists deep into his trousers 
pockets. 

Case stopped before him. “ Pawney up! Give 
’em to me! ” he ordered in a low tone and glared 
down bullyingly at Hiller. 

“ All of ’em, sir?” asked little Hiller. “You 
took nearly all I had before, sir.” 

“How many have you got? Let’s see ’em! 
Quick, now! ” 

Little Hiller tremblingly drew his fists out of 
the trousers pockets and held them out open, 
palms up, to the older boy. “ That’s all I’ve 
got, sir.” 

“ Humph! ” grunted Case with a shrug of his 
shoulders. “ That’s not many. I’ll take half of 
’em.” He reached over and took four or five lead 
slugs from each of the small boy’s palms. 
“ You’re a poor, whining little fish; aren’t you? ” 
he sneered as he stuck the slugs into his own 
trousers pocket. 

Thomas Hiller blinked behind his spectacles. 
“You’ll never tell on me; will you, Case?” he 
pleaded. 

George laughed under his breath. “ Ever used 
any of these slugs in town except at that drug 
store? ” 


178 the cadet sergeant 

“N-no, sir. N-no,” replied the little boy. 
“ But you won’t tell on me; will you, sir? ” 
u No fear,” replied Case. “ Get out of this 
hall now, and go back into your dormitory and 
hop into your bunk! ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Through sheer fright, little Hiller hesitated 
before moving. George made as if to strike him 
with his open hand. Thomas Hiller shrank back¬ 
ward. 

“ Beat it! ” spat out George, 
puny little liar! ” 


“ Beat it, you 


CHAPTER XV 


THE HIGH COURT 

“Good-night, Ladies! Good-night, Ladies! Good¬ 
night, Lay—dees! 

We’re going to leave you now! 

Merrily we roll along! roll along! roll along! 

Merrily we roll along—we’re going to leave you 
now! ” 

So sang the Chatham cadets shortly after mid¬ 
night as taxis took their loads of girls away. 

“Didn’t we hand it to old Johnny, though!” 
laughed Fred Barclay as he and Myron Angus 
wandered up-stairs to their beds. 

“ He deserved it, too! ” responded Myron as 
he threw back his dark head and roared. 

They stood a moment together on the second 
floor at the foot of the stairs which leads up to 
Dormitory H. 

“ The school has a tough week in front of it,” 
commented Fred casually, his brown eyes frankly 
upon Myron. 

“ Sure it has.” 

“Yes,” continued Fred: “with the St. James 

179 


180 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Tournament just a week off and exams coming 
right after that, we’ll all have to step on the gas 
right lively.” 

“ I should say so,” agreed Myron. “ T. J. was 
saying this morning that we’ll have to do a lot of 
drilling all this week, and that St. James is fine 
in battalion and platoon movements as well as 
in the manual of arms.” 

“ I know it,” said Fred. “ I guess it will be 
drill every spare minute we’ve got.” He paused; 
then burst out impulsively: “ Look here, Myron. 
You and I are going up against each other, and 
hard, too. I’ve said and done a lot of things to 
you that I’m sorry for. And I w r ant you to know 
it,” 

Myron’s black eyes looked sharply a moment at 
his erstwhile friend; then he said: “ Oh, that’s all 
right, Fred. No use to be sore at each other just 
because we’re out for the same things.” 

“ That’s what I’ve been thinking lately,” de¬ 
clared Fred. “You and I have both been in 
training and we’re both in fine shape. I suppose 
it’s not conceit to say that it will probably be 
between the two of us in the Top-Men Contest 
Tuesday.” 

Myron laughed: “ There’s many a slip.” 


THE HIGH COURT 181 

“ That’s all right; but what I said is about 
true, though; don’t you think?” 

“ Probably,” responded Myron. u Porky and 
Richards—yes, it might be true, Fred.” 

“ Sure it is. And they say it’s still between 
the two of us for Senior Captain next year, 
Myron. Maybe I’m counting chickens before 
they’re hatched, but I can’t help it. What I want 
to say is that we’ve both tried hard, and will 
continue to do so to the end. But let’s be friends 
—if you’re willing.” 

“ I’m willing,” answered Myron instantly, his 
honest gaze steady on Fred. 

“ Well, then, there’s my fist on it, old fellow.” 
Fred Barclay held out his big hand. 

Whereupon the two gripped each other tightly. 

The next day was Sunday. It was another 
warm, sunshiny day. Immediately after Chapel 
George Case seated himself on the horse-block in 
front of the main building. Little Hiller, like a 
fascinated bird, stood blinking before Case. Sud¬ 
denly a taxi approached on the winding, pine- 
lined drive. A man, whose face was only too 
familiar, was seated in the back. George Case 
leaped to his feet. Little Hiller felt as if his 
heart had stopped. 


182 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Great Scott! ” gasped George as both bolted 
toward the Armory. “ You get off into the woods 
somewhere, and don’t show up before dinner if 
you value your life.” 

“Where—where—are you going, Case?” 

“ None of your business! ” snapped back 
George as they parted. 

The man who had driven up in the taxi went 
directly into the office of Colonel William B. 
Crawford. 

“ I’ll look into the matter,” concluded the C. O. 
after ten minutes’ conference. “ That’s the best 
I can do. You seem very sure of your ground, 
sir.” 

“I am,” answered the man. “He’s come in 
with a big boy frequently; but I never had a good 
look at the big one until yesterday. Then I found 
out his name.” 

“ But I still don’t understand your sureness,” 
argued Colonel Crawford; “ for you admit you 
found no slugs when you opened the machine 
in front of them.” 

“But don’t you see, sir,” returned the drug¬ 
gist, “I have found slugs several times before, 
immediately after those two boys had operated 
the machine and left the store.” 



THE HIGH COURT 183 

“But are you sure that those two are the 
guilty ones? ” 

“ As sure as I can be of anything.” 

“ I am very sorry it has happened,” Bingo de¬ 
clared. “ I think I’ll know the facts soon; then 
the line of action can be decided upon.” 

“ I thought you would want to know about it 
all, Colonel. I don’t care so much for the money 
loss; but it isn’t nice to see young boys doing 
things like that. I’m a father myself.” 

“ I understand.” 

Colonel Crawford escorted the man back to the 
taxi. 

Alone once more the Commanding Officer of 
Chatham thought hard at his desk. The wind 
of last night’s tempest had blown itself out. The 
time was at hand to deliver justice for the in¬ 
fractions of discipline at the dance. Bingo had 
been smiling to himself all the morning as he 
speculated upon what would have happened last 
night if some of those pillows instead of landing 
against a few cadets and upon the Armory floor 
had struck the shiny bald pate of T. J., for ex¬ 
ample, or had hit his own eagle-like head-mastery 
nose. Bingo was by no means so hard-boiled 
as he seemed. 


184 the cadet sergeant 

But now with this lead-slug story just unfolded 
by the visitor, the C. O. smiled no more; for 
sorrow entered his heart. At first, he thought of 
consulting his intimate friend and colleague, the 
Commandant; then changed his mind; and 
walked alone with head bent over his tall form 
first to little Hiller’s alcove, afterward into an 
alcove in Dormitory H. 

It simply couldn’t be so: the truth couldn’t be 
as he had had it explained to him, no matter 
what he himself just had seen; he knew the boy 
too well, had known him for too many years. 

Colonel Crawford would not act hastily. 
Therefore when the Sunday afternoon inspection 
was over, he bent himself to his work with re¬ 
spect to the infraction of rules on the night be¬ 
fore. He called up boy after boy to his office. 

u Cadet So and So, did you have anything to 
do with last night’s infractions of the rules? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Know anything about it? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

Bingo knew most of the answers before he 
asked for them. But just as the cadets had to 
answer the questions, Bingo felt he had to ask 
them. 


THE HIGH COURT 185 

So lie went over the roll patiently and de¬ 
votedly : Cadets Atkins J, Atkins W, Blake, Ban¬ 
croft, Case, Claymore, and so on and so on, al¬ 
phabetically until he had called up every name 
save one. 

George Case, caught in the net, had lied out¬ 
right. Fred Barclay, Tibbotts, Richards A, and 
Fatty Williams acted according to one of the 
traditions for the circumstances: they managed 
by adroit maneuvering to dodge the C. O’s call. 
Bingo recognized their absence and the probable 
cause of it; and decided to await developments: 
for he held always as a last resort a dire punish¬ 
ment, which however he had no wish to inflict 
if he could avoid it. 

Then Bingo sent for the one man whose name 
he purposely had omitted. He was reluctant to 
call him, but it must be done. 

“ Did you have anything to do with last night’s 
infraction of the rules, Angus?” 

“ I can’t answer, sir.” 

“What’s that?” 

“No, sir. You are going through the entire 
battalion roll, sir.” 

“ We always do; do we not, Angus? ” 

“ I understand, sir.” 


186 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“You mean you decline to answer: yes or 
no?” 

“ In tlie circumstances, sir, I’m afraid I do, 
sir.” 

The familiar slight smile flicked across the 
C. O.’s thin lips. This exact situation had arisen 
in Bingo’s long experience about once every five 
years. Generally though when it had arisen, 
every cadet in school had taken such a course as 
Myron Angus now was alone in pursuing. 

“ I’m surprised that you are the only man who 
answers in this manner! ” commented Bingo. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Angus non-committally. 

“ The boys could not have been thoroughly 
aroused until too late then.” 

“ I don’t know, sir,” responded Myron much as 
a wooden image might speak if a wooden image 
could use words. 

“ Well, Angus,” concluded Bingo, “ for good 
or ill you’ve answered no doubt according to the 
code. I’ll not quarrel with you for that.” 

Myron stood stiffly at attention in front of 
Bingo’s desk while the tall, slender school Presi¬ 
dent sat opposite him in the depths of a leather- 
covered chair. “ In fact I don’t mind your an¬ 
swer at all,” continued Bingo as he straightened 


THE HIGH COURT 


187 

his body after a moment’s pause. “ For I want 
to have quite a talk with you on possibly a more 
important matter.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ I don’t understand you,” went on Bingo. 
“ You’ve been here a number of years. You are 
intensely ambitious. You go out for everything. 
Apparently you want to represent the school in 
as many events as is possible in the Single Com¬ 
bats with St. James; and apparently, too, you’d 
like to be chosen as next year’s Senior Captain.” 

u Only if I’m worthy of it, sir,” broke in Myron. 

“ Precisely, Angus. And at about the time 
when you make me conclude that you are worthy 
of such an honor as the Senior Captaincy you do 
something which throws me into doubt about 
you.” 

“ I don’t understand, sir, please,” said Myron. 

“ Let me summarize,” answered the C. O. 
quickly. “ Perhaps then we can understand each 
other better. You may even answer me so that 
I’ll know myself mistaken.” 

Myron Angus never moved a muscle as Bingo 
paused and then went on: 

“ Angus, you stood by that new boy Hiller for 
example against a pretty bad bullying; yet you, 


188 THE CADET SERGEANT 


with Barclay, broke every rule when you two 
fought that day last fall. I intended to discipline 
you both; but didn’t because of what followed 
almost at once. I mean at the power-house. That 
was as brave an act as ever has been performed 
by any boy in this school. Then you opposed 
the Faculty openly and bitterly with regard to 
the abolition of football; yet you accepted with 
good grace the Faculty’s decision as soon as it 
was made. I am not sure that a man can be a 
good officer, to say nothing of whether he can be 
a Senior Captain, who does continually so many 
diametrically opposed things. What do you 
think? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir.” 

“ Have you nothing to say? ” 

“ Just, sir, that I am sorry for what I have 
done only if these things are wrong. I can do 
no more than that.” 

“ In other words, Angus, you wish to stand on 
your record without defense.” 

“Yes, sir; I guess that’s it, sir.” 

“ Hum,” grunted Bingo with his slight smile. 
Here Bingo’s gaze went off toward the window. 
“ I find that only yesterday,” he continued, “ you 
very quietly volunteered to risk your life again. 


THE HIGH COURT 189 

I refer to your offer to go out on that line at the 
Falls.” 

“ Who—who—sir, told you that, please? ” 

“ I’ve no objections to answering,” said Bingo. 
“ Taylor W told me.” 

Myron made no comment. 

“ Well,” declared the C. O. after a moment and 
turned his head back to the Cadet Sergeant, “ I 
don’t understand you, Angus.” And then with a 
tragic expression on his face added, “A Falls 
druggist has just been in with a serious charge 
against Hiller and you.” 

Bingo paused and waited. Myron stood silent 
as though stunned. 

“ Did you hear me, Angus? ” 

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir!” Myron’s words were 
hardly audible. 

“Angus, have you nothing you can say? ” 

“ Wh-what is the charge against me, sir, if I 
may ask? ” 

“ He says that Hiller and a large boy whom 
he identified yesterday as you have been in his 
store a great deal and taken out chocolates and 
gum from his slot-machines by inserting lead 
slugs instead of regular coins. That, Angus, is 
counter-” 



i 9 o THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ He said that about me, sir? ” burst out Myron 
suddenly. “ Why—why—I-” 

“ Yes, Angus; and he’s found dozens of slugs 
in his machine.” 

“ I swear to you, sir, I-” 

“ Don’t swear yet, my boy,” interrupted Bingo. 
“ Please, please!—For look here! ” 

The President delved into his own right trou¬ 
sers pocket and brought forth in his hand to 
Myron’s view ten or twelve lead slugs the size 
of one-cent pieces. 

“Ever see these before, Angus?” 

“No, sir.” 

“ Do you know who made them? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Can you suspect who made them? ” 

“ I can’t answer that, sir.” 

“Why not?” 

“ I can’t answer that question, either, sir.” 

“ You never saw them before? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“Why, Angus,” replied the C. O., “I found 
them in your alcove just now.” 




CHAPTER XVI 


MYRON CONDEMNED 

66 1 can't help that, sir, please,” came back 
Myron Angus with indignation as a flush in his 
cheeks deepened to a dark crimson. 

“ Do you think that somebody must have put 
them there then? ” returned Colonel Crawford. 

“ Somebody must have, sir.” 

“ But you were in the drug store with Hiller 
yesterday; weren’t you? ” 

“ Yes, sir. And that man, sir, didn’t find any 
slugs, either. Please, I have not done any such 
thing as this, sir.” 

“ You must let me continue to question you,” 
replied the C. O. in a not unkindly tone. 
“ Doubtless it may all come out right for you; 
but here are these telltale slugs which I found 
on a shelf of the cupboard in your alcove.” Bingo 
dropped the slugs back into his right trousers 
pocket. “ If they are not yours, Angus, do you 
know who put them there? ” 

191 


i 9 2 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ I do not, sir,” replied Myron with head high. 

“ I can understand your temptation to speak 
evasively, or even untruthfully,” continued 
Bingo. “ But I advise you not to do so.” 

“ Very well, sir.” 

“ Do you tell me straight then, Angus, that you 
know nothing about these slugs? ” 

“ I know nothing, sir,” answered Myron. 

“ Nothing about Hiller’s connection with them 
either? ” 

“ That, I must repeat, sir, I can’t answer, sir.” 

“ If you know nothing, you can answer, Angus; 
and if you know something, you’ve lied just now. 
You can see that, of course.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Bingo arose; he was a trifle out of patience. 
“ I’ve done all I can for you,” he said, his voice 
dull and even. “ Go to your quarters and remain 
there until you hear from me.” 

Myron saluted; about-faced; and started for 
his alcove. As he entered Dormitory H little 
Hiller came out from an alcove opposite: cower¬ 
ing, sniffling, his near-sighted eyes showing red 
through his thick spectacles. 

“ The drug-store man was h-here, Myron, 
h-here,” he whimpered. “ He’s been in with 


MYRON CONDEMNED 


i93 

Bingo. Oh, don’t peach on me; don’t peach on 
me, please! ” 

Myron looked down upon Hiller a moment 
without speaking; Hiller was a piteous, small 
creature indeed: black hair parted crookedly on 
the side of his head, sallow face, thin little wrists, 
transparent, scrawny hands, dark eyes with their 
inflamed lids behind the glasses. 

“ What have you done, anyway, for me to peach 
about? ” Myron finally asked. “ You’ve told me 
always that you have not used lead slugs.” 

“ Y-yes, sir, Angus. But don’t—don’t tell 
about yesterday, sir! Please! Please! ” 

“ Peaching isn’t done in this school, Hiller,” 
% Myron answered at length, his tone cold. 

“ Th-thanks, th-thanks, sir.” 

“ You’re welcome,” responded Myron; then for 
a moment self-restraint left him. “ Get out of 
my sight,” he whipped out. “ Get out; and be 
quick, I tell you: quick! ” 

“ Hiller! Oh, Hiller! ” The cry rang through¬ 
out the dormitory. 

“ Here! Here! ” 

“ Bingo wants you right away,” yelled Jim 
Tibbotts. “ I been chasing you all over the 
place.” 


i 9 4 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Meantime Scholiarie the Silent, Porky Taylor, 
Fatty Williams, and Johnny, innocent of their 
chum’s plight, sat on a bench at the side of the 
Gym near the tennis courts; basked in the May 
afternoon sun; and “ gabbed.” 

“ I’ll bet old Bingo knows all about last night 
and who did it,” chuckled Porky. “ Fat, your 
name is Dennis! Wait till Bingo gets you! ” 

“ He isn’t going to get me,” grinned Fat. 

“ Oh, I see,” commented Porky wickedly. 
“What you going to do? Jump over the Falls 
or something? ” 

At Porky’s last words, Schoharie the Silent 
permitted a small smile to make a momentary 
appearance at his thin lips; Johnny grunted; and 
Fat’s expression changed instantly to one of 
grave concern. 

“ If you guys,” replied Fat, “ had only just 
refused to answer Bingo and-” 

“And all been put on bounds?” interrupted 
Porky with jeering merriment. “ Ho! Ho! ” 

“Wonder where Myron is?” muttered Fatty. 

“ Say, I just been thinking,” spoke up Scho¬ 
harie irrevelantly, “ about what happened be¬ 
tween Myron and Fred before 6 taps ’ last night.” 

“ Me, too,” put in Porky. “ Been thinking 



MYRON CONDEMNED 


195 


about it all day. Myron wouldn’t say a word; 
asked him about it right after Chapel. Fred had 
told me all about it, though. Fred’s just the way 
he used to be. I think it’s fine.” 

John Hayes, with his chin in his hands, his 
elbows on his knees and still very much of a 
blighted being, gave Porky a withering glance 
and again grunted. Fatty was too absorbed in 
his own troubles even to take in what had been 
said. 

“ That’s what I thought at first, Porky,” con¬ 
tinued the Silent Man. “ Fred’s impulsive; and 
he’s an easy mark for a fellow like Case.” 

“ I guess that’s right,” agreed Porky. “And 
what’s worse, Fred’s a fighting man.” 

“ You’ll think he is,” smiled the Silent One, 
“ after you get into that Top-Men Contest against 
him day after to-morrow.” 

“ That’ll be all right,” vouchsafed Porky. 

“ But I’m afraid,” added Schoharie. “ Fred 
never liked anybody who opposed him, and is 
never going to.” 

“ Why then did he talk to Myron that way last 
night? ” Johnny Hayes snapped out in deepest 
sarcasm, without a turn of his head. 

“ Probably just happened to feel that way,” 


196 the cadet sergeant 

put in Porky. “ Or of course lie might have had 
some scheme; but I don’t really believe he had.” 

“ Pooh! ” responded Johnny. 

“ I think Fred was more than square in that 
Graylock game,” continued Schoharie the Silent. 

“Maybe; but he’s too susceptible to flattery, 
all right,” declared Johnny from the depths of 
his collar. “ We’ve always known that. I’ll 
admit he’s a fighter. I was just thinking that 
maybe he meant what he said last night, but 
he might not mean the same thing to-day or to¬ 
morrow or any time between now and the St. 
James Tournament or the giving out of the 
Senior Captaincy.” 

Then suddenly Johnny began to chuckle and 
kept on until he shook all over. 

“ What’s the matter with you? ” demanded the 
others. 

“Look!” laughed Johnny. “Look at Yarick 
W!” 

There across the tennis court stood the Junior 
Captain hatless in the sun, his back toward the 
boys. And all beheld that he had plucked out 
enough hair from the crown of his red head 
so that a round perfectly bald spot about two 
inches in diameter had been created thereon. 



MYRON CONDEMNED 


197 

“By Jinks!” quoth. Johnny in admiration. 
“ Isn’t that a peach! Looks like a monk! ” 

Into Johnny’s soul had come prompt forgetful¬ 
ness of woes; and an ambition to go at once and 
imitate on his own pate what the Junior Cap¬ 
tain had done. But as it was nearly time to go 
into school and get ready for supper Johnny’s 
design for the time was thwarted. 

A shock hit the battalion at that Sunday night 
. supper formation. 

Colonel Crawford had returned perforce to a 
further consideration of the infraction against 
discipline at the dance. He once again had sent 
out messengers to corral certain cadets; and 
once again the effort had proved fruitless. At 
this the C. O. had smiled to himself somewhat 
wistfully: for his duty now was plain. Hence 
as the battalion was about to march into Mess 
Hall that evening, the following order was read: 

“For disorderly conduct the cadets named 
below will be on bounds for one week and will 
remain on bounds indefinitely thereafter, or until 
they have memorized and have recited perfectly 
to Mr. Bell the first two hundred and fifty lines 
of Longfellow’s ‘ Hiawatha ’: 


198 the cadet sergeant 

CADET SECOND LIEUTENANT BARCLAY 
CADET CORPORAL TIBBOTTS 
CADET CORPORAL RICHARDS A 
CADET PRIVATE WILLIAMS 

By Order of the President . 

Mark Livingston, Adjutant.” 

It was now up to the cadets mentioned to prove 
their innocence. This was the dire punishment 
Bingo always had up his sleeve. 

“ Oooh! ” groaned Fatty Williams to himself 
as he stood rigid in his inconspicuous place in 
the battalion line. “ Two hundred and fifty 
lines! And that blinking Case gets out of every¬ 
thing ! ” 

Fred Barclay, Tibbotts, and Richards A were 
equally mournful, though none felt Fatty’s pre¬ 
cise resentment against Case. 

“ George is lucky. Wish I’d lied out of it,” 
muttered Richards A under his breath. 

And possibly—though it is not known surely— 
Fred and Tibbotts had thoughts not so very dif¬ 
ferent from those of Richards A. For two 
hundred and fifty lines are two hundred and fifty 
lines; and great always has been the travail of 
mind amongst Chatham cadets in the memoriz¬ 
ing thereof. 


MYRON CONDEMNED 


199 


At any rate, no further chances were taken 
with Bingo. No attempt was made by any of the 
culprits to prove his innocence; they simply 
swallowed their punishment like men. 

That evening after Mess, however, the tribula¬ 
tions of the Dance Smashers were lost by the 
cadet corps in the almost unbelievable rumor 
which swept over the school: Myron Angus 
caught sticking slugs in a slot-machine with 
Hiller; and slugs found in Myron’s alcove! It 
was scarcely credible. Yet the downcast faces 
and absolute silence of Angus’s chums practically 
confirmed the worst. Also, it was obvious that 
Myron virtually was a prisoner in his alcove. 
He would see only those closest to him. There¬ 
fore the rumor seemed to be true. 

Immediately after study-hour, Porky stopped 
Schoharie outside the School Room. “ How do 
you suppose it got out, Silent? ” asked Porky, his 
voice shaking. 

“ Easy,” replied the Silent Man. “ Tibbotts 
or Case got hold of young Hiller and bullied it 
out of him.” 

“ Isn’t there anything we can do? ” 

“ Don’t know. All Myron tells me is that he’ll 
stick it out, whatever that means,” 


200 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Twenty minutes were left before “ tattoo ” 
would sound; “ taps ” would follow ten minutes 
later. John Hayes and Fatty Williams now 
came up. Porky was thinking. For a moment 
no one spoke. 

“ Come on, let’s all go and see Myron,” de¬ 
clared the Porcupine at length. “ I got an idea.” 

The four hurried instantly to Dormitory H. 

“ Man,” began Porky as the four friends 
crowded in front of the iron cot upon the edge 
of which sat the Cadet First Sergeant of Com¬ 
pany A. “ Man, do you realize that unless you 
prove yourself innocent you’ll not only never get 
the Senior Captaincy, but you-” 

“ I understand that, Porky,” interrupted 
Myron earnestly. “ But I never did what Bingo 
says I did. It’s up to Bingo to prove I did it. 
That’s common law. A fellow doesn’t have to 
prove first that he’s innocent of a crime; the law 
has to prove first that he’s guilty of it.” 

Porky blinked: “Where’d you get that?” 

“Everybody knows that,” returned Myron. 
“Ask T. J. if it isn’t so; or old Hank, or ‘ Church ’ 
Bell.” 

“ That’s all right,” broke in Johnny. “ But, 
Myron, this is no court. And if you don’t care 



MYRON CONDEMNED 201 

for the Senior Captaincy, maybe you care for us 
or the school; you say you’re going to stick it 
out. What do you mean by that? ” 

“ That I’m going to keep on plugging and at¬ 
tending to my business, Johnny. Bingo con¬ 
demned me; it’s up to Bingo! ” 

“ Do you think that’s fair, Myron? ” demanded 
Porky. “ Why, man, man, if Bingo thinks you’re 
guilty of this—this awful crime, do you believe 
he’ll let you represent this school against St. 
James in the Single Combats? ” 

“ Of course he won’t, Myron,” interrupted 
Schoharie the Silent, “with such a stig—er— 
stigma on you. Suppose you were kicked out of 
the Top-Men Contest and the school lost! ” 
“Yes, suppose that!” chimed in Fatty who 
now spoke for the first time. 

At this, Johnny H. Hayes jumped up in the air 
and landed on the cot, his knees under him, the 
top of his head in the pillow. “ You big cuckoo¬ 
eyed goat! ” he bellowed as he slammed im- 
potently into the pillow with his fists. “Do 
something—before I commit murder! ” 

“ There’s nothing I can do, Johnny,” replied 
Myron, a tinge of sorrow in his tones. “ I’m 
going to stand by the school, of course. But 




202 THE CADET SERGEANT 


Bingo has accused me of something; I’ve denied 
it; he’s placed me practically under arrest until 
I hear from him. What can I do? ” 

Johnny leaped to his feet again and faced his 
chum. “ You can’t do anything! ” he snorted. 
“ You’re too blinking honorable or something. 
None of you guys ever can do anything. Take 
the bones out of your ears, all of you, and let 
the fish swim out! ” Johnny turned and stalked 
from the alcove and dormitory. 

“ I’m going to see what that lad does,” grinned 
Porky and followed Johnny. 

In the hallway of the floor below Porky came 
upon Johnny in sputtering conversation with 
Senior Captain Atkins W and Junior Captain 
Yarick. 

“ It does look black for the school, Hayes,” the 
Senior Captain was saying. “ I’ll admit that. 
Yarick and I were just talking about it. The 
school needs both Barclay and Angus. And now 

if Angus is out- And the worst of it is that 

even if Angus can prove his innocence, a lot of 
the school might not believe him. The time is 
so short. A lot of ’em might not even want him 
to represent us against St, Janies. The majority 
might not.” 



MYRON CONDEMNED 


203 


“ That’s just it,” agreed Cadet Captain Varick; 
and began to pull out more hairs around the bald 
spot on his red crown. “ Clubs or no clubs, the 
school is what counts. Case and Fred Barclay 
are laughing their heads off right this minute.” 

“ Is Fred laughing, too? ” demanded Porky. 

u Well, Tibbotts and Richards and Case are.” 

“ Aw, what of that! ” exploded Johnny as 
though his auditors had not been officers in the 
cadet battalion, but lowly privates such as was 
Johnny himself. 

Then “ tattoo ” sounded and Johnny was com¬ 
pelled to take instant departure for his alcove to 
make ready for bed; which for Johnny was likely 
enough just as well. 

Porky moved slowly after Johnny. u Black ” 
was the right word, he concluded after much 
meditation. Black for the school, all right, 
maybe, but dead sure for Myron unless some¬ 
thing could be done mighty quickly to help. 
Atkins W was a good-enough Old House man and 
Yarick a good Lovering Hall guy. But they 
were both unconscious from the neck up. There 
was no time to lose. Why, the Top-Men Contest 
would be day after to-morrow! 


CHAPTER XYII 


A BOY DISAPPEARS 

“ Sure he’s guilty, fellows: everybody knows 
that! ” 

“ Knows what? ” exploded Porky. 

“ Knows he’s guilty,” repeated George Case 
somewhat nervously, but still without backing 
away. 

It was noon next day on the sidewalk in front 
of the Armory. Mess call had not sounded as 
yet. A dozen and more boys who had been 
listening now stepped closer and surrounded 
George and Porky, with eyes intent and ears 
alert. There were Fred Barclay, Atkins W, Old 
Clay, Richards A, Tibbotts, and a host of lesser 
lights from Lovering Hall, Old House and the 
neutral body. 

“ How does everybody know he’s guilty? ” 
smashed on Porky, with war in his little blue 
eyes. “ Has Bingo said he’s guilty? Has Angus 
admitted it? ” 

“ Of course not,” returned George Case as his 
blond head went back in a forced laugh which let 

204 



A BOY DISAPPEARS 


205 

the sun mark sharply the red pimples in his face. 
“ But everybody knows it! ” 

“ They do, eh? Well, they don’t! And if you 
say they do you’re a liar! ” Porky stuck out his 
big chest and jerked his head sideways with 

4 

belligerence. 

“No man can call me that and get away with 
it! ” came back George without much enthusiasm. 

Porky grinned at this. “ Huh! ” he grunted. 
“ Take a swat then; and give me the excuse to 
knock you into so many pieces your mother’ll 
think you’re something the neighbors left in her 
back yard! ” 

“ Just the same,” returned George with face 
now flushed, “ if he is guilty he ought to be—to 
be fired—or something.” 

“ That’s different,” said Porky. 

“ First call ” for dinner now was sounded by 
the bugler. The boys started into the Armory, 
nearly all with solemn countenances, for there 
existed in most a desire to see fair play for 
Myron; besides there was great concern as to 
what would happen in the Single Combats of 
the St. James Tournament should Angus be ex¬ 
cluded from competition. Could Fred possibly 
carry off honors in all three events? Were Porky 



206 the cadet sergeant 


and Richards A good enough to beat the St. 
James men? Porky and Richards themselves 
knew they were not good enough. And in all 
human probability it would be necessary to cap¬ 
ture at least some of the Single Combats if vic¬ 
tory in the tournament were to be had. 

“What do you think about it all, Fred?” 
asked Porky as they passed into the building. 

“ I don’t know,” answered Fred non-commit¬ 
tally. 

“What do you think, Clay?” the Porcupine 
turned to Old Claymore. 

“If Angus is guilty, he ought to be fired,” 
answered the old boy, “ not only out of the school 
but out of Old House, too! ” 

“ Rats! ” returned Porky; and then suddenly: 
“Oh! Look at Johnny! He’s gone and done to 
his head just what Varick W did! Say, Jawn,” 
he grinned as he leaped after his friend, “ when’d 
you do that? ” 

“ Started it last night,” smiled Johnny guiltily. 
“Just finished it now. How do you like it? 
Pretty fair? What? ” 

Porky scrutinized critically the crown of John 
H. Hayes’ head: it was a bald spot all right, 
round as a fifty-cent piece and of about the same 


A BOY DISAPPEARS 


207 

size; and it surely did look sore. “ Great! ” lie 
commented at last, his eyes dancing. “ Could 
you do it to me right after dinner? ” 

“ Sure I could,” returned Johnny. “ The 
quickest way to get it done is have somebody else 
do it.” 

“ Oooh! Ouch! ” bawled Porky within ten 
minutes after dinner was finished. “ Have a 
heart, Johnny! ” 

“ Hold still,” commanded Johnny, his eyes 
sparkling while he gripped Porky’s bristling tow 
hair with one hand and with the other plucked 
out hairs from the crown of Porky’s head. “ I 
got to yank ’em; haven’t I? ” 

Porky was seated on a bench on the stone 
veranda of the Armory. “ Sure you got to yank 
’em; but don’t pull ’em all out at once! Oooh! 
Ouch! ” 

“ Shut up! ” And Johnny brought forth about 
fifty hairs with one pull. 

“ Ooh! ” yelled Porky. “ Is it bleeding? ” 

“ No! ” 

“ Bleeding is dangerous,” pleaded Porky. 
“Aren’t you nearly through? ” 

“ Pretty near. Hold still now, you old Porcu¬ 
pine ! ” 


208 the cadet sergeant 


“ Porky,” corrected the victim. 

“ Porky your eye this time! ” returned Johnny. 
“ IPs Porcupine!” And Johnny yanked forth 
another batch of hair. “ There! ” he declared 
and surveyed his work proudly. “ Doggone if 
you aren’t going to have a better place than 
mine! ” 

Porky felt of the bald spot gingerly. It was 
moist. He drew back his finger-tips on the in¬ 
stant and examined them. “ I thought sure this 
time it was bleeding! ” 

“ Bleeding nothing; that’s sweat. I had it! ” 

So pretty soon the Porcupine bounded to his 
feet triumphant; and he and Johnny paraded 
down the walk in front of the main building, 
hatless and to the jeers, admiration, and envy of 
a following multitude. 

At the end of the building nearest the campus 
they encountered Schoharie the Silent. “ Flat 
heads! ” said that gentleman scornfully, as 
his enigmatical smile flitted across his pale 
cheeks. 

“ What’s the matter with us? ” grinned Porky 
and butted Schoharie with his chest. 

“ Didn’t I see you being barbecued by this 
shrimp?” returned the Silent Man as he backed 


A BOY DISAPPEARS 


209 

away and jerked his thumb toward Johnny. 
“ This guy, Hayes, has gone cuckoo! ” 

“ We’re monks,” pronounced Johnny solemnly. 

Just then Colonel Meadows appeared at the 
west end of the walk. 

“ Sco, let’s the three of us ask T. J. if he won’t 
go to Bingo for Myron,” whispered Porky. 
“ Things are bad.” 

“All right,” agreed Schoharie. “ I heard about 
your row with Case. Myron still is up in his 
alcove.” 

“ I know,” acknowledged the Porcupine. 

“ If he’s guilty, men,” explained the Com¬ 
mandant with sadness in his voice, “of course 
he’ll not be allowed in the Tournament. That 
goes without saying.” 

“ But he’s not guilty, sir,” spoke up Johnny. 

“ I can’t believe that he is either, men,” an¬ 
swered T. J. 

“ Then, sir,” put in Pork}% his ruddy face smil¬ 
ing, “ could—could you—sir, go to Bingo—I 
mean the C. O.—Colonel Crawford, please, sir, 
for him ? ” 

“ Perhaps the Colonel will send for me,” re¬ 
sponded Colonel Meadows. 

“ But if he doesn’t send for you, sir, and things 



2io THE CADET SERGEANT 


go pretty bad for Myron, could you see him for 
Myron, anyway, sir?” 

T. J. rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “ Yes,” he 
answered after a minute. “ I’ll do that, men.” 

The three boys thanked the master with all 
their hearts. 

“ I have an idea that Angus is in with the 
President now,” ended the Commandant. 

T. J. was right. At that very moment Myron 
stood before the C. O. in the presidential office. 

“ Sergeant Angus, I have talked with Hiller 
as doubtless you are aware,” said Bingo. “ Hil¬ 
ler has denied everything in connection with the 
lead-slug business.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Have you anything to tell me more than you 
had yesterday? ” 

“No, sir.” 

“You may go about your duties, then, Ser¬ 
geant, You need not be confined to your quarters 
any longer.” 

“ Yes, sir.” Myron felt that he now was sup¬ 
posed to leave. He placed one foot behind the 
other in the first movement of “ about face ” ; 
but brought back the foot immediately to its 
former position; came again to attention. “ Sir,” 


A BOY DISAPPEARS 


211 


he said, “ am I to understand, please, that I am 
cleared of anything to do with this—this awful 
matter? ” 

Bingo shook his head. “ I wish I could say that 
you are, Angus. I have sent for Hiller’s father. 
After I have seen him I shall talk with you 
again.” 

“ Does—does that mean, sir, you think that 
Hiller is guilty and you probably still feel, sir, 
that I am, too? ” 

“ Naturally I have heard the stories about Hil¬ 
ler,” replied Colonel Crawford. “ But I gave 
them little attention hitherto. About you, my 
boy, my mind is open. My hope lies where my 
instinct is. But I must run this matter to the 
ground. I cannot and do not yet believe you 
guilty.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” replied Angus with all the 
earnestness he possessed. 

“ Go about your business then, Angus, and 
think of nothing else for the time,” continued 
Bingo. “ That’s the best thing you can do.” 

“ I will, sir,” responded Myron fervently. 

Myron about-faced; saluted, and retired from 
the room. As he walked slowly down the hall 
his thoughts for an instant turned bitter. “ I’d 


2i2 THE CADET SERGEANT 


like to get that kid and wring his neck! ” he 
murmured inaudibly. “ I’d make him own up to 
everything. But no man can do that. That’s 
bullying, I suppose.” Myron went into the 
library; he was all alone. Suddenly his hands 
went up over his head. “ Oh, it isn’t fair! ” he 
exclaimed under his breath. “ To be—to be 
called—a counterfeiter! ” 

Drill formation was at hand. Myron hastened 
at once to the rifle-racks in the Armory; took out 
his white cotton gloves; buckled on his white belt 
with its shining brass buckle; slipped into his 
gloves; took down his “ piece ” ; examined the 
“ sight ” ; ran his eye along the shimmering “ bar¬ 
rel ” ; seized the gun in his right hand; and, as 
“assembly” sounded, carried the weapon at 
“ trail ” and hopped into his place six paces in 
front of the center of Company A. 

“ Company A!—Attention! ” he sang out as 
he brought his rifle to “ order arms.” Then he 
called the roll from memory alphabetically: 
“ Aldrich, Atkins J, Bettleman, Beatty A, Beatty 
W, Craddock, etc., etc., until he had reached the 
end. Whereupon he about-faced and saluted his 
captain. “ Sir,” he reported in a strong tone, 
“ two men absent, Cadets Loring and Hertzog.” 




A BOY DISAPPEARS 


213 


Next to Company A on the left of the battalion 
line stood Company B. Cadet First Sergeant 
Sands, a slower-speaking lad than Myron, fin¬ 
ished the calling of the roll of Company B just 
as Myron ended the report to Captain Atkins. 
Company A out of courtesy remained motionless 
and silent while Cadet First Sergeant Sands re¬ 
ported to the Junior Captain, Varick W, as 
regulations demanded. 

“ Sir,” sang out Sergeant Sands, “ all present 
and accounted for—excuse me, sir, I mean one 
man absent—Cadet Hiller! ” 

“ Inspection!—Arms! ” instantly cried out 
Sergeant Angus. 

“ Order!—Arms! ” he next commanded. 

And Sergeant Angus took his post behind the 
rear rank at the right of the line of Company A. 

“ Inspection!—Arms! ” repeated Sergeant 
Sands for Company B. “ Order!—Arms! ” 

And Sergeant Sands likewise took his post at 
the right of his Company. 

The band also now was at Attention. 

“Men,” spoke a vibrant voice, and every eye 
but not a head in the cadet battalion moved for 
an instant toward the kindly-faced officer who 
now stood before the center of the line, capped, 


214 THE CADET SERGEANT 

gloved, sabered, and in the khaki uniform of a 
United States Infantry Colonel. 

“ Men, next Saturday we meet St. James Dur¬ 
ham in the Military Tournament. We’re in good 
shape for the encounter.” Colonel Meadows 
gazed up and down the line and smiled. “ Very 
good shape. To-day is Monday. To-morrow we 
hold the Top-Men Contest, so little time can be 
had to-morrow for drill. We must put in, how¬ 
ever, all the licks we can between now and Sat¬ 
urday. General King, who commands the Post 
at Fort Niagara, is to judge the military end of 
the Tournament. 

“ As you all know, there will be a Guard 
Mount, a Review by General King, a Platoon 
Drill; and a drill in the Manual of Arms by the 
picked Star Squad. Each event, as you know, 
will count one. Number two platoon of Com¬ 
pany A will carry the school honors in the 
Platoon Drill and will be under the command of 
Lieutenant Barclay. The Star Squad for the 
Manual of Arms competition will consist of Cor¬ 
poral Schoharie, Privates Hayes, Williams, Hert- 
zog, Dickson, Bettleman, Beatty A, Beatty W, 
and will be under the command of Sergeant 
Angus I ” T. J. paused ; then his voice rang out: 


A BOY DISAPPEARS 


2I 5 

“ Right shoulder!—Arms! Right by Squads! 
—March! ” 

With an instant shuffling of one hundred and 
twenty-odd pairs of feet upon the hard-wood floor 
of the Armory, the Chatham Battalion began its 
march to the campus for a couple of hours of 
stiff drill. 

“ I tell you what let’s do,” whispered Johnny 
Hayes to Schoharie the Silent, who, as corporal 
of Johnny’s squad, marched next to Johnny in 
line: “ Let’s us, you and me, Sco, get hold of 
that young Hiller and make him cough up the 
whole story; or we’ll beat his head off.” 

“ Something like that should be done,” mur¬ 
mured Schoharie. “ Myron can’t do much for 
himself, I guess.” 

“ That’s right,” added Johnny. u Let’s get him 
right after drill.” 

Schoharie nodded agreement. 

The battalion now had reached the campus. 
T. J. was far in the lead; Atkins W at the head 
of his Company; Yarick at the head of B; Myron 
Angus was at the right of the first squad. The 
band was playing. The battalion was marching 
straight across the campus toward the Lewiston 
Road whereon ran the trolley-car from Lewiston 


216 the cadet sergeant 


Heights to Niagara Falls. Off to the right, the 
drive wound its way through pines from the 
school, edging the south end of the campus and 
thence to the road. 

“ Battalion!—Halt! ” commanded T. J. as the 
cadets reached the center of the campus. Almost 
as though they were one man, the order was ex¬ 
ecuted. And click! click! click! the rifles came 
from right shoulder to order arms. 

Every man took a breath; waited alertly while 
his eyes roamed as much in all directions as was 
possible without a movement of head. 

A trolley-car now approached from Lewiston 
and stopped at the gate in front of the drive. 

“ Look at that! ” breathed Johnny suddenly. 

“ I see it! ” muttered Schoharie. Myron An¬ 
gus, from his post, was also observant. 

A small boy in the cadet gray uniform of Chat¬ 
ham, with an old suit-case in one hand, had slunk 
out from the midst of pines; had dashed across 
the road; and had boarded the waiting street-car. 

Suddenly T. J. ripped off gloves and whistled 
between his fingers; ran forward; cried out, 
“ Stop that car! ” 

But all too late: Thomas Hiller had run away 
from school. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 

“ That kid is gone for good; and his father 
never will come to see Bingo now,” flashed 
through Myron Angus’s mind as the street-car 
disappeared and T. J. dispatched an orderly to 
report Hiller’s exit to Old Hank, who was master 
of the day. 

“ That’s confession for you, all right! ” ran 
through the heads of nearly every other cadet 
who saw Hiller go. 

u I wonder what Angus’ll do,” chuckled Tib- 
botts when drill was over. 

“ Who cares? ” laughed Case. “ He’s in it up 
to his neck! ” 

“ Do you suppose he’ll skip from school, too? ” 

“ Xo,” scorned George. “ He’ll try to bluff it 
out. But, say, maybe he isn’t guilty! I guess 
he is! ” 

Myron’s particular chums in Old House were 
terribly disconcerted: they ran up to T. J. the 
moment the battalion was dismissed. 

217 


218 the cadet sergeant 


“ Yes,” answered the Commandant: “I must 
see Colonel Crawford, anyway. That boy, Hiller, 
moved quickly; didn’t he? ” 

Then he paused a moment as he unhooked his 
saber scabbard from his belt, and gazed at the 
anxious boys before him while a smile gradually 
spread over his countenance. Schoharie held a 
dour expression, as, hatted, he stood silent and 
stiff; Porky and Johnny took off their caps and 
mopped the perspiration from their heads; and 
Fatty Williams with a sudden foolish grin did 
likewise. 

T. J. burst out laughing. “ I heard about you 
fellows,” he declared. “ Turn around, you boys, 
and let me look at you! ” 

Yes: there now were three of them! And 
Fatty’s bald spot was the sorest and worst¬ 
appearing of the lot. 

“Man! Man! Williams, when and how did 
you ever do that? ” exclaimed Colonel Meadows. 
“ Let me look at it.” T. J. barely touched with 
his fingers the crown of Fatty’s head. 

“ Ouch! ” exclaimed Fatty as his shoulders 
hunched up. 

“ When and how, Williams? Man! Man! ” 

“Just before drill, sir,” replied Fatty sheep- 



THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 219 

ishly as lie and the others again faced the Com¬ 
mandant. “ I had to use the points of some 
scissors, sir, in order to get all the hairs out 
on time.” 

“ I thought you’d used a shovel,” replied T. J. 

Hence it was that at supper formation that 
night an oral order was given by Colonel Mead¬ 
ows himself, an order which caused many 
chuckles and guffaws, despite discipline, and 
which made T. J.’s blue eyes sparkle as he gave it. 

“ Gentlemen,” said he with an attempt at great 
solemnity, “ newly bald cadets hereafter will be 
punished by the memorizing of two hundred and 
fifty lines; and the same punishment will be 
handed out to the present crop of bald heads 
unless hair is permitted to grow again at once.” 

That settled it. There were no more bald 
heads at Chatham that year at least. 

“ Colonel Crawford is getting in touch with 
Hiller’s father,” explained T. J. to Schoharie, 
Johnny, Porky, and Fatty as soon as mess was 
over. “ Meanwhile, Angus will have to wait.” 

“ Something should be done now, though, fel¬ 
lows,” declared Porky to his three chums a few 
minutes later. 

“ I know it,” responded Johnny. “ I’m for 


220 THE CADET SERGEANT 

beating up Case, now that Hiller is gone. Case 
is at the bottom of this, anyway, I’ll bet.” 

But the three others shook their heads. 
“ That’s no good yet, John,” declared the Silent 
Man. “ Case would never confess for that.” 

But the thoughts of the school, even including 
these four, quickly turned that night from lead 
slugs and Myron’s predicament, and fixed upon 
the Top-Men Contest which would be held the 
following day. 

Porky and Richards A grinned at each other as 
they met in the doorway of the School Room on 
leaving study hour just before “ tattoo.” 

“ How you feeling, Pork? ” 

“ Fine. How you, Dicky? ” 

“ Bear-cat! Bear-cat, man! ” 

“ Say, I guess we’ll both need all we’ve got to¬ 
morrow, though,” grinned Porky. 

Richards A ran a hand over his sleek black 
hair. “You said something that time, Porky,” 
he admitted. 

Fred Barclay was walking slowly up-stairs to 
his room, the center of an admiring crowd. 

“ Go to sleep right off, Fred,” admonished Old 
Clay. “You’ve got the thing won hands down 
if you keep your shirt on.” 


THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 221 


“Ill do both, all right, Clay/’ replied Fred, 
his fine clear skin shining under the electric 
lights of the hall. 

“ Sure you will.” 

“ Good luck, Freddy, old boy,” offered George 
Case. 

“ Hand it to ’em to-morrow, Barclay,” added 
Tibbotts. “ We know Richards A has no 
chance.” 

“ Thanks, fellows; I’ll do my best.” And Fred 
Barclay with a wave of his arm and a smile went 
into his room. 

To Myron Angus, however, contemplation of 
the next day meant mostly a grim determination 
to fight on to the end regardless of everything; 
it was no fun to be considered a counterfeiter 
and—thief. 

Between u tattoo ” and u taps,” Bingo came 
into Myron’s alcove. “ I’m sorry young Hiller 
got away,” said he, “ but keep up your nerve, my 
boy.” 

“ I will, sir,” responded Myron earnestly. 

The C. O. looked squarely into the boy’s face. 
“ Good-night, Angus,” he added with expression¬ 
less mien, and went on his way. 

The Top-Men Contest took place in the gym- 


222 THE CADET SERGEANT 


nasium at three o’clock on Tuesday, May twenty- 
eighth. Cadets packed into the building and 
lined the walls. The wrestling-matches were 
first run off. Porky and Richards A began them; 
and a very good contest they both put up. 
Porky won. Yet, in truth, it cannot be said that 
either for a moment was classed with Myron or 
Fred. 

Then Myron took on Porky and twice promptly 
threw him; Fred a few minutes later did the 
same to Richards A. Monty, the coach, and T. 
J. who were to decide the contests and choose 
the men for the Single Combats against St. 
James, smiled happily. It was marvelous, any¬ 
way, to have such good second-string men. 

“ Fine work, Taylor! Fine work, Richards! ” 
both called out. 

Then the wrestling-match between Myron and 
Fred was on. Agility, cleverness, and superb 
strength were shown by both boys. Two bouts 
of three minutes each were ordered. If no falls 
should take place, the best work would determine 
the man who would wrestle the St. James repre¬ 
sentative. 

Legs, arms, and bodies flew around like 
lightning. It was beautiful wrestling. The ap- 


THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 223 

plause from all sides was continuous and deafen¬ 
ing. No falls occurred. But wlien the allotted 
periods were over, no question existed as to which 
was the better man. T. J. put his hand on Fred’s 
shoulder and cried: 

“ Barclay wins! ” 

“ Yow! Wow! ” yelled the school. 

“Barclay! Barclay! Barclay! 

Fred, old boy! ” 

Myron gripped Fred’s hand as the two arose 
and faced each other in the center of the mat. 
“ Congratulations, old fellow! ” said Myron with 
a smile. 

Gymnastics came next. Again Porky and 
Richards started matters. They did their best; 
and again a fine best it was. But once more 
every cadet who watched, knew them to be out¬ 
classed by the two who would follow. So when 
Monty and T. J. and the packed gymnasium 
gazed first upon the work of Myron and then 
upon that of Fred it was taken for granted that 
Porky and Richards A were eliminated. For 
seldom had been seen at Chatham such splendid 
work as Myron and Fred put up on the parallel 
bars. Such dips, both short-armed and long- 


224 THE cadet sergeant 

armed, few cadets ever had seen anywhere; and 
when Fred did his magnificent backward Giant’s 
Swing on the horizontal bar, the applause was 
tumultuous. 

“Both Barclay and Angus are pretty close, 
though, Colonel,” declared the coach when all 
was over. 

“ Yes,” agreed T. J. “ If anything, Angus is 
better than Barclay on the parallels.” 

“ I think he is, too,” replied Monty. “ But 
that backward Giant’s of Barclay’s! By George, 
sir, that has class.” 

“ It has,” declared Colonel Meadows with con¬ 
viction. “ It will just about do the trick to win 
the Gymnastics for us, too.” 

“ I agree,” chuckled Monty. 

So amidst more shouts, T. J. again put his 
hand on Fred’s shoulder and announced: 

“ Barclay’s event! ” 

Myron once more gripped Fred’s hand. “ Con¬ 
gratulations ! ” he repeated sincerely. 

Then followed boxing. T. J. decided on two 
one-minute rounds for each bout. 

Barclay against Porky commenced things. 
Porky, laughing, jumped in with a rush, and 
slammed mighty fists rapidly, straight out in 


THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 225 

front of him. “ It’s my only chance, you old 
terrier!” he snorted gaily. 

Bing! Bang! Barclay side-stepped easily; 
and the blows heard were his fists on Porky’s 
cheek and nose. The round ended quickly and 
the second was like the first. 

Well, that battle was easily determined. The 
crowd roared with laughter. As the scrap ended 
Porky grinned and stuck forth his hand, which 
Fred took instantly. 

Barclay wins! ” cried T. J. 

Then Fred took on Richards A. The result 
was the same. Obviously, Richards A was a 
cleverer boxer than Porky, but by no means so 
good a natural fighter. 

Then Myron met Porky and that match was a 
glory of fistic convolutions. 

Porky walked up to Myron at the sound of 
the bell; ducked as though a blow were coming 
straight toward his nose, though no blow from 
Myron was even started. Then Porky raised his 
head quickly and implanted a right uppercut on 
the tip of Myron’s jaw. 

Myron staggered for an instant. 

“ Oh! Oh! Oh! ” yelled the crowd. “ Porky! 
Porky! Look at that Porcupine! ” 


226 THE CADET SERGEANT 


It was a real question, though, who was the 
more surprised by that uppercut, Myron or the 
Porcupine. At any rate, Porky now stood off 
from Myron a moment; and his ruddy coun¬ 
tenance burst into a big grin. Myron grinned 
also. 

“ Stay right there, you old Porcupine! ” 
laughed Myron; then began to put the blows on 
Porky: not hard ones, just light showers of 
them on head, body, nose, and face; and Porky 
soon was quite helpless so far as parrying them 
was concerned. So the crowd had plenty of fun 
over that bout, too. And when it was over with 
Myron declared the winner, Porky announced 
in a roar, “ Fellows, Ill admit this Angus a 
worthy opponent, yea even possibly a better 
man! ” 

Richards A followed. And Myron disposed of 
him quite as easily as Fred Barclay had done the 
job. 

“ I kind of wish Porky and Dicky hadn’t both 
been eliminated, though,” pronounced Johnny 
ruefully as Myron’s victory over Richards A was 
called out. “ Dicky never could whip that old 
Porcupine in forty thousand years, and it would 
have been a great scrap! ” 


THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 227 

No one disagreed with Johnny; for it was 
readily manifest that Johnny was about right. 

A ten-minutes’ wait ensued; an almost breath¬ 
less one for the crowd. Then Myron and Fred 
faced each other. Myron showed at once that he 
had no intention to be caught as he had been last 
fall. He was wariness personified; though he 
weaved in and out with courage and force. Fred 
was as alert as Myron. For a round and one- 
half no school ever saw better-matched men. 

But now! What was this? Myron was sud¬ 
denly like a tiger. The change came without 
warning. He lost none of his wariness, but with 
the speed and strength of the great jungle cat 
he was in on Fred and all over him. His power¬ 
ful arms shot forth in streaking flashes. Fred 
was bewildered; he covered up and tried to 
clinch. But Myron forced him to stand off and 
shot blow after blow against body, head and jaws. 

“Wow! Yow!” 

The school yelled frantically. 

“ Myron! Myron! Myron! ” 

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” 

And then the fight was over. 

“Aaay! Yaay!” 

Fellows danced and shouted; others were so 


228 THE CADET SERGEANT 


utterly surprised that they could only remain 
stock still. 

Monty leaped at Myron and punched him in 
the ribs through sheer excitement, while T. J., 
holding Myron’s right hand aloft, shouted: 

“ Angus wins! ” 

“ Oh, by George! ” Fatty danced and yelled. 

u By Gum! By Gum! ” thundered Porky, and 
seized Myron about the waist. 

Johnny Hayes tried to stand on his head, 
elated beyond words. 

Case and the Lovering Hall men and Old Clay 
were silent in their daze. 

But Fred Barclay stuck forth his hand. “ You 
certainly did give it to me, Myron! ” he declared 
smilingly. 

“ Thanks, Fred,” answered Myron modestly, as 
he returned Fred’s grip. 

“ It was wonderful! ” exclaimed Monty a few 
minutes later to a crowd which surrounded him. 
“ For really a good big man should whip a good 
little man every time. Fred outweighs Myron 
ten pounds! ” 

“ It should have been a draw then! ” piped up 
Case. 

“ Sure it should! ” echoed Tibbotts. 


THE TOP-MEN CONTEST 229 

“We’re deciding on a team, boys; nothing 
else! ” called out Monty. 

“ Yes,” declared T. J. “ Both men could not 
meet the Durham boxer. Angus won.” 

“ Three cheers for Barclay and Angus! ” a 
voice suddenly shouted. “ Hip! Hip! ” and the 
school responded: 

“ Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

Barclay! Barclay! Barclay! 

Angus! Angus! Angus! ” 

Then from Fred Barclay: “Three cheers for 
Myron, the best scrapper we’ve got! ” 

The cheers were given with a will. 

As they ended, Myron called out: 

“ Three cheers for the man who represents us 
in two of the three Single Combats next Satur¬ 
day : Fred Barclay! Hip! Hip! ” and the crowd 
thundered: 

“ Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

Barclay! Barclay! Barclay!” 

“ The best athlete in the school! ” added 
George Case at the top of his voice. 

“ Hooray! ” repeated the crowd. 

“ You bet! ” 


2 3 o THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ You bet be is! ” 

“ Fred, old boy! ” 

Myron picked up a bath-towel, mopped the 
perspiration from his forehead; ran the towel 
over his black hair; rubbed his chest with it. 

Of a sudden Fred was surrounded by adulators 
and half pushed, half carried toward the Gym 
doorway, with a vast crowd following closely 
behind. 

“ Where’s Myron? ” 

“ Where is he? ” cried the voices of Porky and 
Johnny. 

“ Right here,” answered Myron as he pulled 
on a sweater and ran to join the crowd which 
was carrying off Fred. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE PORCUPINE 

“ What do you think, Porky?” questioned 
John H. Hayes at six o’clock that night as he 
joined his chum on the west end of the drive in 
front of the Chapel. “ I was just up in H; that 
fellow, Angus, is studying! ” 

“ Xo! ” Porky grinned. 

“ Surest thing there is! Say, a guy like Myron 
has a tough life.” Johnny doubled up his fists; 
stretched his long arms up over his head; brought 
them down slowly in a wide sweep over his 
shoulders as he opened his big mouth and 
yawned. “ Well,” he concluded, “ I suppose a 
school has to have studies and things like that 
or it couldn’t have scholars and things like us, 
Pork!” 

Porky’s grin grew wider and took on a self- 
conscious aspect. 

“ Got a Piety test for Friday, John,” he con¬ 
fided. “ Old Hank soaked me with it on the 
campus just now. Wonder what I’d better do 
about it? ” 


231 


232 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Study for it,” responded Johnny without 
mercy. 

Johnny received a “ sock ” on the chest for this 
from the Porcupine’s fist. 

George Case now had recovered considerably 
from the fright he had received the day before 
from Porky Taylor; anyway, young Hiller had 
skipped from school; and despite Myron Angus’s 
win in the boxing contest, George felt fairly 
content. George ambled down the walk at Fred 
Barclay’s side. 

“ You’ll be Senior Captain next year sure, 
Fred,” he remarked. 

“ Don’t talk foolish! ” replied Fred as he saw 
Johnny and Porky approaching from the oppo¬ 
site direction. “ Myron is in the running. Make 
no mistake about that.” 

“ Piffle! ” snorted George. 

“ Hello, Freddy! ” greeted Porky. “ All 
washed up for supper? You sure do pack a 
mighty wallop! Don’t know about Myron; but, 
O boy, I can feel your hefty swats yet! ” 

“Didn’t mean to hurt you, though, Pork,” 
laughed Fred. 

“ Oh, you didn’t really.” Porky thereupon 
snapped the back of the fingers of his left hand 


THE PORCUPINE 


233 


against Johnny’s right shoulder. “ They can 
say what they want, Jawn, we’ve got two classy 
athletes in this old shack! Durham’s got noth¬ 
ing that can touch either Myron or Fred here, 
I’ll bet! Don’t you think so, too, Georgie? ” 

Case allowed that the Porcupine was more 
than right. 

At this moment Old Clay came up, his putty 
face and black eyes looking sour indeed. Scho¬ 
harie the Silent was with him. 

“ A lot of kicking is going on, fellows,” Clay¬ 
more began at once. 

“What’s the matter?” demanded Fred, fixing 
a steady eye on the grumbler. 

u Just this,” answered Claymore. “ I’m an Old 
Houser and so are you. We all are right here 
except George. But being Old Housers should 
make no difference what we think about Angus. 
Lots of fellows, including me, can’t see a man 
who’s accused of what Angus is, representing 
Chatham in anything.” 

“ Who’s accused him? ” asked Fred casually. 

it 

“ Aw, Fred! Bunkerino! ” scathed Old Clay 
as two yellow spots flashed into his black eyes. 
“Angus ought to prove himself innocent, or he 
shouldn’t represent this school in anything! 


234 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Why, he’s even the Manual-of-Arms Squad 
leader! ” 

George Case smiled; turned; and walked 
away. Schoharie linked an arm under one of 
Porky’s arms and one of Johnny’s. “ Excuse 
me, fellows,” said he over his shoulder as he led 
his two chums off toward the Armory, in order 
to get a chance to speak freely. 

“ I don’t know what’s got into Clay and a lot 
in this school,” began Schoharie very quietly as 
soon as Porky, Johnny, and he were free of 
Claymore and Fred. “ But Myron’s got to be 
cleared of this lead-slug business right now. 
Unless something’s done, even Old House will 
turn against him.” 

“ I think so, too! ” snapped Johnny. 

“ No use getting mad,” observed Schoharie. 

“ No, you chump! ” echoed Porky. 

“ I’m very much afraid,” continued Schoharie, 
“ that Myron’s win this afternoon has made mat¬ 
ters worse for him: Case and Claymore and 
Tibbotts and that whole gang are rousing the 
school against him. See you later. I’m going to 
do some thinking.” 

Porky blinked as Schoharie left them. Porky 
had reached a definite conclusion himself; the 


THE PORCUPINE 


235 

Top-Men Contest momentarily had put it from 
his mind. 

“Let’s chase up Fat,” Johnny finally offered 
for want of better to say. 

Instead, however, they headed straight for the 
corner alcove in Dormitory H. “We’ve just 
about time to see Myron before 6 first call ’ for 
supper,” remarked Johnny. 

Atkins W was with Myron as the two reached 
the alcove. 

“ Just been trying to tell Angus,” the Senior 
Captain explained, “ that, while we all are his 
friends, he must clear himself right off or with¬ 
draw from the St. James Tournament,” Atkins 
W stood at the end of the alcove, his tall, slender 
back to the east window and gazed down at 
Myron who sat on the edge of the military iron 
cot and laced up a shoe. “ Not that we believe 
you’re guilty, old man. You did a fine job to¬ 
day; but the school won’t stand for this other.” 

“ You mean you won’t, Atkins,” barked out 
Johnny suddenly. 

“Well, yes,” admitted Atkins. “And why 
should I? ” 

“ Then there’s going to be a fight! ” put in 
Porky, his chin out. 


236 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Myron arose; slipped into his cadet blouse; 
buttoned it; hooked the tight cloth collar; never 
said a word. 

“ Yon mean a fight with you, Taylor? ” asked 
the Senior Captain coolly. 

“ Hadn’t thought of that,” responded Porky. 

“ I mean a fight-” he hesitated;—Atkins W 

was a big figure in the life of the school—one 
of the biggest. Porky stumbled on, “ I mean a 
fight in the whole school.” 

“ There can’t be one, Taylor. The school would 
suffer too much by a thing like that. No man 
would stand for it.” 

“ But it’s all right for Myron to get the worst 
of it, though! ” interrupted Johnny. 

“ The school is not likely to want a man ac¬ 
cused of what Myron is to be even a squad 
leader,” replied the Senior Captain as he ignored 
Johnny’s attack. “ I’ve been trying to explain 
that, too! ” 

“ You’re a fine Old House man, you are, At¬ 
kins ! ” snorted Johnny forgetful of all respect 
due Atkins’ high office. “ What do you think 
Myron should do? ” 

“ You’ve heard what Atkins believes, boys,” 
broke in Myron, his tone quiet. 



THE PORCUPINE 


237 

“ But you’re innocent, Myron!” blurted out 
Johnny. 

“ Sure you are!” added Porky with absolute 
conviction. “What you going to do?” 

“ Stick,” answered Myron. 

Mess call was blowing. The four hurried 
down-stairs immediately. 

“ You’re going to get out of this if it’s a pos¬ 
sible thing,” whispered Schoharie as he and 
Myron walked up toward the library near the 
President’s study when the battalion had been 
dismissed after Mess was over. “ You’re not 
guilty. I wouldn’t even insult you by asking you 
to say that you’re not.” 

Myron turned a quick glance to the Silent 
Man. “ Of course I’m going to get out of it if 
I can. I’m worried, though, about the school, 

Sco, and-” Myron hesitated; then added: 

“ and about Old House. I want to do what’s 
right.” 

“ Fair enough! ” muttered the Silent Man. 

“ I’m going to-” Schoharie stopped in the 

middle of his sentence; for the attention of both 
was suddenly focused on a broad-shouldered, 
deep-chested cadet who now came out of the 
President’s study, waved to them, grinned at 




238 THE CADET SERGEANT 

them and rushed down the “ masters’ stairs ” 
which led to the walk in front of the main build¬ 
ing. 

“ Now what do you suppose that Porcupine is 
up to?” muttered the Silent Man. 

“ Don’t know,” responded Myron with a laugh. 

Nor did any one else know; for Porky without 
a word to a soul, had cooked up an excuse for 
Bingo and had obtained permission to go to Buf¬ 
falo. 

“ Please, sir, Angus is the man who befriended 
your son when your son was first a new kid,” 
spoke Porky calmly next morning to the father 
of Thomas Hiller. 

“ But do you realize, young man, that you are 
asking me to admit that my boy is a counter¬ 
feiter? ” 

The two sat opposite each other in the big liv¬ 
ing-room of Mr. Hiller’s home. 

“Yes, sir; I suppose I do,” Porky replied. 
“ But stories of lead slugs and your son, sir, have 
been going around from the day Thomas entered 
school, sir. Why, sir, he was terribly bullied on 
account of them. Angus stood up for him and 
stopped the bullying.” Porky’s body was held 


THE PORCUPINE 


239 


stiffly in Ms chair, though bent forward at a 
small angle; his cheeks were flushed; his cadet 
cap was in his lap, clutched tightly at the shin¬ 
ing leather visor by both of his hands. 

“ Yon mean,” questioned Mr. Hiller, “ that the 
druggist identified Thomas and Angus as the 
boys who put slugs into his machine? ” 

“Yes, sir; but some mistake is there, dead 
sure.” 

“And you say that lead slugs were found in 
Angus’s alcove, also? ” 

“ Yes, sir; but I don’t believe they were his. 
Some one else put them there.” 

“ I see. But you believe my son is guilty.” 

Porky’s flush deepened. “Well, sir—I—be¬ 
lieve Angus is not guilty, sir.” 

“ Why?” 

“ Because—because, sir, I know him, sir.” 

A laugh of irony escaped the father. “ But my 
little boy is guilty. That’s it; isn’t it? ” 

“ I didn’t say that, sir.” 

“ No? ” 

“No, sir: I only want to find out, sir, and 
save—save Angus.” 

Mr. Hiller arose; Porky Taylor started to do 
likewise. “ Keep your seat! ” commanded the 




240 THE CADET SERGEANT 

older man and stood over him. “Now exactly 
what do you want me to do? ” 

“ Find out, sir, please, if—if Thomas knows 
who put those slugs in Angus’s room; and if he’ll 
say that Angus never was with him when those 
—those slugs were used.” 

“ By George, you’re young indeed! ” exclaimed 
the father. “ Go back to your school and tell 
your President that if he has anything to say 
to me to say it direct and not through a boy! ” 
Porky was on his feet now with eyes unflinch¬ 
ingly upon the irate man in front of him. “ He 
didn’t know I was coming to you, sir. Bingo— 
Colonel Crawford—didn’t—I made up an excuse 
to get permission to come to Buffalo. No one 
knew I was coming to you, sir.” 

Mr. Hiller’s face suddenly relaxed. “ You’re 
trying to save a chum; aren’t you? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ A chum who helped my boy once? ” 

“ Yes, sir—Please! ” 

“ No! ” The father suddenly shook his head 
with definiteness. “ Not convict my own flesh 
and blood; not for any one! ” He turned his 
head suddenly away. 

Then the door from the dining-room opened. 


THE PORCUPINE 


241 


A whimpering little boy appeared. He cast a 
frightened glance at Porky; turned his eyes a 
moment piteously up to his father; darted across 
the room; and buried his head within his father’s 
open arms. 

“ There, there, little boy; it’s all right,” 
soothed Mr. Hiller. “ It’s all right. Nothing, 
nothing’s going to happen to you now.” And he 
stroked the top of his son’s head. “ You didn’t 
do anything; did you, my boy? Did you? ” 

A shriek, a wail rent the room, followed by a 
torrent of weeping. “ No—n-no—n-no, Dad: I 
didn’t; honest I didn’t, Dad! Don’t send me 
back, please. Don’t! Don’t! ” 

And the father answered gently: “ Don’t 
worry, little son, for I believe you.” 



CHAPTER XX 


OLD HOUSE 

" He wouldn’t budge, Myron. He just wouldn’t 
pay any attention to anything I said to him,” 
Porky poured out the story of his visit to Mr. 
Hiller as soon as he returned to school that night. 

“ Oh, that’s all right, Pork,” responded Myron. 
“ You did all any friend could do. I’m mighty 
grateful for that.” 

They stood facing each other in Myron’s alcove. 

Porky’s little blue eyes were alive with fight 
and his cheeks were very red. “ What’s hap¬ 
pened all day here? ” he asked. 

“ Nothing,” replied Myron. 

“ Say! Where you been, Pork? Gee WTiiz!!! ” 
It was Johnny who with Fat and Schoharie at 
his heels bounded into the alcove. “ You never 
let a fellow know! ” 

Whereupon Porky again unfolded all that had 
happened since the night before. “ I’m going in 
to tell Bingo now,” he ended. “ Things can’t be 
any worse than they are! ” 

“ That’s a good idea, Porky,” approved Scho- 

242 


OLD HOUSE 


243 


harie the Silent as the usual slight smile flitted 
across his thin lips. “ But things can be worse.” 

“What do you mean?” demanded Porky. 

“ I’ve just been with Claymore and Atkins and 
George Case and Tibbotts. Those fellows now 
say that Myron here will either prove himself 
innocent or get out of school at once; or they’ll 
know the reason why! ” 

“ You fellows all are my best friends,” Myron 
now broke in. “ You know that I probably can’t 
prove myself innocent of this terrible thing be¬ 
fore the St. James Tournament, anyway. Why, 
this is Wednesday night and the Tournament is 
Saturday.” Myron’s black eyes were very earnest 
indeed as he looked into the faces of his four 
chums. “ I don’t want to hurt the school. But 
I’ve got to stick. I’ve done nothing. I just 
simply can’t run.” 

At this Porky Taylor’s coarse tow hair seemed 
suddenly to bristle even more than ever. He 
stuck out his chest and stepped close to Myron. 
“ Of course you can’t run! ” he propounded. 
“ Maybe I can’t lick you alone, old timer, but 
Silent here and Fatty and Johnny and I can do 
it together. And, by Jinks, we will if you shoot 
off your face any more! ” 


244 THE CADET SERGEANT 

All laughed; though Myron stood a bit be¬ 
wildered. 

“ Say nothing,” Porky continued, command- 
ingly. “ Wait till Pve seen Bingo.” 

“ But maybe the school won’t wait, Porky.” 
It was Schoharie again. 

“ They’ll wait till morning, now,” commented 
Johnny acidly and with an affected yawn. 
“ There goes ‘ tattoo.’ ” 

Next morning was Thursday: the school’s 
weekly holiday. It was Memorial Day also. For 
some reason, for the first time in years the school 
would not parade at Niagara Falls, though large 
numbers of cadets undoubtedly would be down 
town in the afternoon, watching the militia pa¬ 
rade. But Porky had great fears for the morn¬ 
ing. He was at his job early. 

“ Yes, Taylor: I think with you that beyond 
doubt young Hiller lied to me and that he is 
guilty,” admitted the C. O. after Porky had re¬ 
peated as well as he could remember every word 
of the interview with Mr. Hiller and had asked: 
“ Don’t you think, sir, that Hiller is guilty and 
that Angus is innocent? ” 

“ Yes, probably you’re entirely correct,” con¬ 
tinued Bingo. “ But the difficulty is to prove it. 


OLD HOUSE 


245 

Still Fm glad you went to see Mr. Hiller, very 
glad, Taylor. Your visit may do a lot of good. I 
must somehow see Mr. Hiller myself at once.” 

“ Fine, sir. That’s fine, sir! ” exclaimed Porky 
fervently. “ If you could do it now, sir, now. 
The school is turning against Myron, sir; and 
the St. James Tournament is day after to¬ 
morrow.” 

The Chatham President arose from his desk 
and as his thin form towered over Porky, he 
said: “ Don’t worry about that. The hoys will 
not get away from us.” That was all and those 
last words were spoken unsmilingly and in a very 
low tone. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied Porky. “ Thank you, sir.” 
Porky started to back from the room; stopped. 
“ Just one thing more, sir, please. Did any one 
lately ever report, sir, that any money had been 
stolen in this school ? ” 

“ No, Taylor,” answered Bingo. 

“ Case didn’t then, sir? ” 

A slight smile appeared at the C. O.’s lips. 
“I said no one,” responded Colonel Crawford. 
“ Why do you ask? ” 

“ Oh, nothing, sir. But I think I see a lot of 
things, sir,” Porky chuckled. “ By Jinks! ” he 


246 THE CADET SERGEANT 

suddenly let forth. “ Thank you, sir.” He sa¬ 
luted ; about-faced; left the room. 

Fatty and Johnny were awaiting him in the 
hall outside the C. O.’s study. 

“ What happened? ” demanded Johnny. 

“ What did Bingo say? ” echoed Fatty. 

“ Bingo’ll never let anybody get away with 
anything funny,” confided Porky in a whisper. 
“ That’s all fixed, and I’ve got an idea myself.” 

“ Maybe Bingo won’t let anything funny hap¬ 
pen,” returned Johnny. “ But something funny’s 
already gone on.” He jerked his head toward 
Claymore and Atkins W who were down by the 
Carpe Diem clock at the library entrance in ear¬ 
nest conversation. Schoharie was standing be¬ 
tween Old Clay and the Senior Captain, listen¬ 
ing. “ Atkins W down there,” Johnny continued, 
“ has called a meeting of Old House in his room 
at eleven o’clock.” 

“ What? ” exploded Porky as he scratched the 
bald spot on his head as though it itched worse 
than a dozen mosquito bites. “ What’s that 
mean? ” 

“ Trouble,” replied Johnny laconically; “ and 
it’s spread all through the place.” 

“ What’s Sco think? ” 


OLD HOUSE 


247 

“ He’s for the meeting,” said Johnny in dis¬ 
gust. 

“ So am I then,” declared Porky to the surprise 
of Fat and John. “ I’d just like the opportunity 
to lick up somebody.” 

“ Huh! ” grunted Johnny. “ There’s somebody 
now for you, just coming up to our fine Senior 
Captain.” 

Signs of wicked glee spread over Porky’s face. 
“ Hey, you! ” he called down the hall. “ Come 
here a minute, please! ” Porky took about seven 
paces forward while the cadet he had called 
approached. 

“ Say you,” began Porky in a low but terrific 
voice the moment the two met. u You told me 
a while ago that a lot of swiping of money had 
been going on; didn’t you? ” 

“ Sure,” replied George Case as a flush mounted 
in his cheeks. “ That’s right.” 

“ Well, did you report it? ” 

“ Sure I did,” answered Case. 

“ You did, eh? ” 

“ Sure,” repeated Case; but now began to show 
real uneasiness. 

“ You told me, too, that you thought young 
Hiller was doing the swiping,” went on the re- 


24B THE CADET SERGEANT 

lentless Porky. “ Did you find out for certain 
that he was the guy? ” 

“ Say, Taylor,” returned Case with great effort 
as he moved back a step, “ what business is all 
this of yours? ” 

“ Oho! ” snorted Porky as with chest expanded 
he moved close to Case again. “ Well, I say you 
didn’t report that any money had been swiped 
from you! ” 

“ I’m a liar then, I suppose? ” asked Case. 

“ Sure you are,” grinned Porky; “ and I think 
you’re a counterfeiter, too! ” 

“ What? ” 

“ That’s what! ” Whereat Porky ran the edge 
of his mighty right hand down over George Case’s 
nose and up again quickly. 

“Haw! Haw!” roared Johnny. “That’s 
worth the full price of admission! ” 

“ Atta boy, Pork! ” yelled Fatty. 

Thereupon Porky in great satisfaction turned 
from George, and, between Johnny and Fatty, 
marched down the hall with an expression of 
duty well done upon his countenance. 

“Now let’s go and tell Myron what Bingo 
said,” he declared, as they reached the floor be¬ 
low, “ and tell him to keep his shirt on.” 


OLD HOUSE 


249 


At eleven o’clock on that Thursday morning 
all thirty Old House men crowded into Atkins 
W’s room. Those who had beat to walk had 
gotten excused temporarily. 

At first, Myron thought he should not attend 
the meeting; but Schoharie convinced him that 
it w r as the thing to do. 

“ We’ll fight this whole thing out now, Myron,” 
the Silent Man had said. “ I’m glad that Atkins 
W started it.” 

The Senior Captain presided over his club- 
mates. He was at a table near the end of his 
long narrow room. Behind him were half a 
dozen fellows crowded on the iron military cot 
which stood next the wall with its foot near the 
window. Around him and in front of him in 
chairs, on trunks, on the top of the bureau, with' 
a few on the floor in all manner of more or less 
easy positions sprawled the balance of Old 
House. 

Myron, Schoharie, Johnny, Porky, and Fatty 
were seated on two trunks which were against 
the wall at Atkins’ left. Fred Barclay, Clay¬ 
more, and Mark Livingston, the battalion Ad¬ 
jutant, were in chairs directly opposite. 

“We have a very serious problem before us, 


250 THE CADET SERGEANT 

fellows,” began Atkins W. “ We all know what’s 
up. One of our honored members has been ac¬ 
cused of a—of a hi-eenus crime.” 

Somebody chuckled: “ What kind of a crime? ” 

“ A—a—hi-eenus crime,” pronounced Atkins 
W solemnly. “ Don’t you know what that means, 
Blake? ” 

“ Spell it; will you please, At? ” 

“ Order! ” thundered the Senior Captain; and 
batted his table with a big wooden gavel. “ This 
is no time to get fresh. u H-e-i-n-u-s. That’s the 
way to spell it, if you want to know.” 

“ O baby! ” burst out Johnny Hayes as Blake 
and he united in laughter. 

“Harms. That’s the way to pronounce it,” 
came back Blake. 

Atkins W withered them each with a look. 
“ We’ll get down to business now,” he announced 
with gravity. “ No more childish interruptions, 
please.” And as he ran his hand over his chin a 
wave of chuckles rippled over the room; for it 
was noticed that this movement by the Senior 
Captain was an attempt to hide the flush which 
was rising swiftly into his dark cheeks. 

“ Fellows, as I was saying, one of our honored 
members has been accused of a— of a ”—Atkins 




OLD HOUSE 


251 

W swallowed hard — u of a crime. All of us in 
Old House, of course, want to stand by him; but 
many of us in Old House think that he also 
should stand by this club.” Atkins W paused. 

“ Mr. President, what do you mean please by 
that last? ” It was Schoharie, very quietly. 

“ I’ll explain it, Silent: Sergeant Angus up to 
date has not proved his innocence. The school 
quite rightly thinks no man while he is under 
such a cloud should represent us in the St. James 
Tournament, because if he did the fair name of 
Chatham would be sullied.” 

“ What’s that, Mr. President? ” broke in 
Johnny in deepest sarcasm. “ The fair dame of 
Chatham would be sullied! ” 

“ Fair name! ” scathed Atkins W. “ I said fair 
name, Hayes.” 

“ Just as much sense in one as the other,” per¬ 
sisted Johnny. 

“ Shut up! ” Porky’s elbow landed against 
Johnny’s ribs. Johnny caved in with a growl; 
but obeyed. 

“ I’ve told Angus,” continued Atkins, “ that 
honor demands he should withdraw. He has 
refused. Therefore, by his refusal Old House, 
as I see it, is dragged into the dirt unless Old 


252 THE CADET SERGEANT 

House shows by actions its—its—re-repudiation 
of the stand Sergeant Angus has taken.” 

A low murmur of approval of the Senior Cap¬ 
tain’s words mixed by another one of disapproval 
swept over the room. 

“ Mr. President, what action do you think Old 
House should take? ” Again it was Schoharie 
very quietly. 

“ Yes; what do you think we should take? ” 
It was Fatty Williams this time. 

“ I’ll tell you fellows what action we should 
take.” 

Every eye turned to a plump cadet with a first 
lieutenant’s insignia on his shoulders who now 
arose. “ If Angus doesn’t withdraw like a man, 
Old House should disown him. Yes: throw him 
out if you like it better that way! ” Claymore, 
his beady eyes burning, his putty cheeks with a 
touch of color rising in them, faced Angus across 
the room. “ What do you want to bring a bad 
name to this school for, anyway, Angus? ” he 
demanded fiercely. “ I should think that would 
be the last thing you’d want to do.” 

Myron’s black eyes were hard upon Claymore; 
not a muscle in his face or body moved. He made 
no immediate attempt to answer. 


OLD HOUSE 


253 

“ Nothing to say? Is that it? ” sneered Old 
Clay. 

And then a man at Claymore’s side arose 
slowly to his feet. He had big shoulders and a 
very deep chest. Claymore sat down as though 
by instinct. 

“Are we trying Myron Angus, Mr. Presi¬ 
dent? ” asked Fred Barclay easily. “ Are we a 
court of inquiry or something? If we are trying 
him, by what authority are we doing it? Is Old 
House a court? That’s what I’d like to know. 
But if we are a court, Angus ought to be given a 
fair chance to defend himself, with fellows acting 
as lawyers for him, and things like that. It 
ought to be regular, I think.” And Fred Bar¬ 
clay sat down. 

“ This is no court, Fred. This is-” 

“ Let me say something please, fellows,” inter¬ 
rupted a well-known voice. 

Schoharie grabbed Myron by the skirt of his 
blouse. “ Sit down! ” he whispered. 

“ No, Sco.” 

At this Johnny Hayes threw up his hands, 
crossed his knees and gazed at the floor in utter 
despair. But every other man turned eyes upon 
Myron Angus. 



254 THE CADET SERGEANT 

U I know the hole Old House is in because of 
me,” Myron said slowly, “ and I know the hole 
that I’m in. But, fellows, I can’t withdraw 
from the St. James Tournament, either as a 
Squad leader or as a Single-Combat contestant; 
because that w^ould be practically a confession 
that I’m guilty; and it isn’t fair.” 

“ No, it wouldn’t be a confession! ” broke out 
Claymore. 

“ Yes it would! ” yelled Johnny. 

Atkins W whacked his table with his gavel. 
“ Order! ” he again shouted. 

“ Withdraw for the honor of the school! ” cried 
Old Clay, “ at least until you’re cleared of what 
you’re charged with! ” 

But at this Porky Taylor leaped up. “ If he 
does,” he roared, “ I’ll lick him! Doggone me if 
I won’t! ” 

That broke the strain. Every one laughed; 
even Myron grinned at his chum. “ Porky doesn’t 
need to worry about that,” Myron went on. “ I 
can’t withdraw. If the Faculty put me out, that’s 
another matter. But one thing I can and will 
do: Old House doesn’t need to be mixed up fur¬ 
ther in this. I can see clearly that if I remain 
a member-” 




“Fellows, I hereby resign from Old House. ’’—Page 255 , 





















OLD HOUSE 


255 

“ Hey! Hey! None of that,” interrupted 
voices. 

“ Let him speak! ” commanded Atkins. 

“ Go on! ” yelled out Old Clay. 

“ If I remain a member, the club will suffer,” 
continued Myron in the death-like silence which 
now greeted him. “ Therefore, fellows, I hereby 
resign from Old House.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


MUTINY 

“ Are you crazy? ” Jolmny Hayes leaped to his 
feet. “ If you go, I go!” 

“ Me, too! ” cried Fatty. 

“ Imbecile! ” snorted Porky, his fists doubled 
up, his blue eyes glaring at Myron. 

Fred Barclay sat silently, his body motionless. 

Yells and shouts filled the room. 

“ You shouldn’t do that, Myron! ” came from 
some. 

“ Sure he should! ” retorted others. 

“You bet he should,” yelled out Old Clay. 
“Yes; and if it’s right that he quit the club, it’s 
right that he should withdraw from the Tourna¬ 
ment, too! ” 

Every one began to talk at once, trying to 
make himself heard. 

Bang! went Atkins’ gavel. Bang! Bang! 

“ Order! You fellows! ” 

Myron, still in the center of the room, re¬ 
mained cool and undisturbed! 

256 


MUTINY 


257 

“ We’ll break up the club! ” cried out Johnny 
above the noise. 

“ No, you won’t! ” broke in Schoharie the Si¬ 
lent. “ Resigning will do neither Old House nor 
Myron nor you fellows any good.” 

“ Then what did Myron do it for? ” demanded 
John. 

“ He was right,” answered the Silent Man. 

“ Then why shouldn’t he withdraw from every¬ 
thing? ” 

“ Because that would be an admission; and 
he’s not guilty! If Bingo says Myron’s guilty, 
Myron won’t be allowed to compete against St. 
James, anyway.” 

“ Then what’s all the fuss about? ” It was 
Porky now, his grin restored. “ Why can’t Old 
House wait and give one of its own men as square 
a deal as Bingo’ll give him ? ” 

“ Old House is giving him a square deal! ” put 
in Claymore in an ugly tone. “ But this school 
and the club aren’t trying Angus. They’re only 
asking him to be decent and withdraw so long 
as he’s under a cloud. You can’t deny the fair¬ 
ness of that.” 

“ That’s it, boys! ” broke in Atkins W. “ Clay 
is right. And what the school wants, certainly 


258 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Old House should agree to. We all love Old 
House, but the school comes first.” 

“ It sure does,” added Claymore. “ We’ll be 
lucky if all kinds of trouble don’t come if Angus 
tries to go on.” 

“Aaay! Aaay! ” agreed large numbers; but 
others growled angrily. 

“ Good-bye, fellows.” Myron unnoticed had 
moved toward the door; now he opened it; waved 
his arm above his head; and was gone. 

Quiet commanded that Old House room for 
many minutes thereafter. 

“ What do you think of that? ” muttered 
George Case to Jim Tibbotts a few minutes later 
as they met on the walk near the Chapel. “ I’ve 
just seen Claymore. They’ve bounced Angus 
from Old House! ” George made great effort to 
control all outward signs of his vast satisfaction. 

“ Fine! ” laughed Jim. “ It’s fine! ” 

“ This old school is good yet,” went on George 
with a fairly grim smile. 

“ You bet it is,” agreed Jim. 

George Case now saw a mental picture of free¬ 
ing himself forever of any danger from the lead- 
slug matter. He could beat Myron to a pulp this 
minute, “the stuck-on-himself chap.” George 


MUTINY 


259 

recalled with bitterness Myron’s words to him re¬ 
garding tbe Mess Hall bullying of young Hiller 
last fall. Well, the time for evening of scores 
had come, all right. 

“ I guess if Angus had to get out of Old House, 
Jim,” he went on coolly, “ the next step is that he 
should get out of school.” 

u That’s right,” replied Tibbotts with admira¬ 
tion for his friend’s logic. 

“ Why, Chatham would kick like everything,” 
continued George, “ if St. James should show 
up Saturday with a man who had been accused 
of counterfeiting to lead a squad or to wrestle 
Fred Barclay.” 

“ It certainly would,” agreed Tibbotts. 

“ It’s just as if a political party were running 
a guy for Congress who had been arrested for 
grand larceny or something and hadn’t been tried 
yet,” George further explained. u I guess nobody 
would think much of that party.” 

“ I should say they wouldn’t,” said Tibbotts. 

George’s spirits kept rising. He had not liked 
the story which had gone the rounds that Taylor 
W had been in Buffalo all the day before. He 
had had a disagreeable feeling, akin to instinct, 
which had been intensified by his encounter with 


260 the cadet sergeant 


Porky this morning, that all might not prove well 
because of that mysterious trip of Porky’s. 

George often had heard that if you get into a 
fight, it is best to hit the other man first; only 
before you hit him, you must be sure that you 
can hit him so hard he’ll land on the ground and 
. . . stay there. 

“ Oh, Dicky! ” He beckoned to Richards A 
who approached from the direction of the 
Armory. 

“Did you hear about Angus?” George asked 
as his Lovering Hall friend came up to him. 

“ I should say yes! ” replied Richards A sul¬ 
lenly. “ He ought to quit. Every one is saying 
so.” 

The news of the row in Old House indeed had 
spread with great rapidity. In twos and threes, 
cadets now gathered on the walk and drive near 
the horse-block, until about sixty boys made up 
the crowd. It was nearing dinner-time. Per¬ 
haps this fact contributed a mite to the temper 
displayed by many. Opinion almost to a man 
was that Myron should withdraw. 

“ Old House seems to think he’s not much, all 
right! ” shot forth Richards A. 

“ But he never will quit! ” came back Tibbotts. 


MUTINY 


261 

“ Of course lie won’t,” sneered Richards. “ And 
so far as the Faculty is concerned, he even has a 
chance still to get the Senior Captaincy for next 
year.” 

“ Bunk! ” exploded Tibbotts viciously. “ He’s 
just like a criminal! We’d better lose everything 
against St. Janies than submit to that!” 

“ He’s not convicted yet! ” Fatty Williams 
bawled forth suddenly. Fatty apparently was 
the only one of Myron’s chums present. 

“ Then why did Bingo practically put him 
under arrest? ” broke in George Case, in a loud 
and confident voice. 

“ He let him out again, didn’t he? ” returned 
Fat. 

“What about the lead slugs they found in 
Angus’s alcove then? ” retaliated George. 

“ How do you know any were found there? ” 
Fat fought on. 

“ Ho! ” laughed George. “ Everybody knows 
slugs were found in Angus’s alcove. Anyway, 
Hiller told me himself, if you want to know.” 

“Yes he did.” 

“ Certainly he did! ” lied George. “ And now 
Hiller has skipped from school. If that isn’t 
confession, what is? ” 




262 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Why doesn’t Bingo punish Angus then? ” It 
was Fat’s last valiant stand. 

“ Probably he will. Give him time! ” inter¬ 
jected Richards A viciously. 

“ Lay off it, Fat! ” 

“ Lay off it! ” cried the crowd now in a trifle 
better humor. 

Jim Tibbotts now raised his voice: “ I think 
the corps ought to refuse to drill against St. 
James Saturday if Angus, while he is still under 
a cloud, is allowed to command the Manual-of- 
Arms Squad, or take part in the Single Com¬ 
bats ! ” 

“ That’s insubordination, Tibbotts! ” sang out 
Fatty. 

u Don’t care if it’s mutiny! ” returned Tib¬ 
botts, angrily. 

Murmurs of approval of Tibbotts were now 
heard on all sides. 

“ It would be for the honor of the school! ” 
cried Case. “ I’m for going to the Faculty and 
telling ’em so! ” 

“ Aaay, George! That’s right! ” agreed the 
crowd. 

“ You bet it is! ” shrieked Tibbotts. 

“ Let’s go to Bingo now! ” added Richards. 


MUTINY 263 

“ Let’s mutiny!” thundered a loud-voiced in¬ 
dividual in sudden jubilation. 

“ Sure ! 99 

“ Mutiny! ” echoed others. 

And the whole crowd took up the shout: 

“ Mutiny ! 99 
“ Mutiny! ” 

“ Mutiny ! 99 


CHAPTER XXII 


BINGO 

“ Let's go see Bingo then this minute! ” cried 
a pale-skinned lad who that instant with Johnny 
and Claymore had joined the crowd. 

Every eye turned upon Schoharie the Silent. 
He had taken in the situation in a flash. 

“ Aaay! Sco! ” 

The march to the study of the President of 
Chatham began. 

“ Gentlemen, I’m going out of town to-day. 
Xo harm will be done the school, I assure you,” 
patiently explained the C. O. from his study 
doorway, after Richards A, Tibbotts, George, and 
Claymore had put forth their excited demands. 
“ But no harm, on the other hand, must be done 
a cadet of this school.” 

“ But can’t Angus withdraw, sir, at least until 
he’s cleared? ” asked George with an impertinent 
tinge to his tone. 

“ There’s no necessity for that, Case,” an¬ 
swered Bingo. “ I assure you men that no one 

264 



BINGO 265 

will represent tlie school against St. James who 
is not entitled to do so.” 

“ Come on, fellows! ” cried Fatty Williams at 
this. “ Colonel says it’s all right! That ought 
to be good enough for any of us! ” 

Fatty spoke just at the proper moment. 

“ Of course it’s good enough! ” echoed Johnny. 

And others and others gave voices of approval. 

Thereupon the meeting was over. The crowd 
of cadets scattered about as swiftly as they had 
come together, some in high humor, others, such 
as George Case, Tibbotts, Claymore, and Kich- 
ards A, grumbling. 

“What made you do that, Sco?” whispered 
Johnny Hayes in awe a few minutes later. 

Silent let his brief smile appear. “ A wise man 
recognizes another wise man, doesn’t he? ” Scho¬ 
harie responded. “ I know Bingo. If those guys 
hadn’t gone to him, there might have been real 
trouble.” 

“ By Jinks! ” quoth Johnny impressed beyond 
words. 

George Case was now badly frightened. What 
with Porky having gone to Buffalo the day be¬ 
fore, and with Bingo about to go out of town: 
to Buffalo beyond doubt, George had no liking 


266 THE CADET SERGEANT 


for the turn of affairs: for George knew that 
young Hiller lived in Buffalo. And also the 
mutiny had failed; because Bingo had satisfied 
the fellows! George felt an impulse to skip from 
school himself; but didn’t quite dare. 

“ Hello! Hello, Fred! ” he said nervously just 
before dinner as he met Fred Barclay in the 
lower hall. “ This is an awful note; isn’t it? ” 

“What is?” demanded Fred, his clear brown 
eyes fixed upon George’s gleaming gray ones. 

“ That Bingo won’t make Angus get out! ” 

“ Are you plumb cuckoo, Case? ” came back 
Fred unexpectedly. 

“ No; why? ” George forced a smile. “ I only 
said what everybody thinks. I thought you’d 
be for it, anyway, Fred.” 

“ You did; did you? Well, I’m not. I’ve been 
neutral all along because Angus and I were going 
out for the same things. But this has all gone 
too far. I’m glad Bingo, anyway, is giving him 
a square deal.” 

“ I didn’t mean to make you m-mad, F-Fred,” 
sputtered George. 

“ You’ve not,” returned Barclay with a cold 
stare, “ because somehow I think, George, you’re 
just plain yellow,” 


BINGO 


267 

And Fred Barclay held his stare upon George 
until that worthy turned away in hot confusion. 

Most of the school went down-town that after¬ 
noon to see the Memorial Day parade; though 
Porky, Johnny and Myron Angus remained be¬ 
hind. 

“ You did just right, Myron,” declared Johnny 
as the three sat alone on the Chapel steps. 

“ Sure he did,” agreed Porky belligerently. 
44 1 hope Bingo’ll have things fixed up by the time 
St. James gets here.” 

“ So do I,” replied Myron simply. 

“ Wish I knew what he has up his sleeve,” 
commented Porky. 

u Maybe he hasn’t anything! ” chipped in 
Johnny disconsolately. 

Porky and Johnny then went off toward the 
Gym, while Myron went up to the library to 
study Latin. 

In Porky’s heart existed a longing which grew 
larger the more he thought about it. He wanted 
to pick a real fight with George Case and thrash 
him in good earnest; for both he and Johnny 
were absolutely positive that George was respon¬ 
sible for all Myron’s and Old House’s troubles, 
as well as for their own. 


268 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ Fm going to lick him now, I am,” chuckled 
Porky. 

“He’s down-town,” objected Johnny. 

“ I mean I’m going to do it when he comes 
back,” qualified Porky. 

At this point, however, an awful thought upset 
Porky’s plan. It was a thought which perhaps 
changed the life of one and possibly two Chat¬ 
ham cadets. For it is quite probable that had 
Porky beaten George Case that night, George 
would have given away to his cowardice, and 
skipped from school. 

“ Gee whiz, Jawn! ” gasped Porky, “ I got that 
Piety test for to-morrow; and I just got to get 
out of it somehow! ” 

“ Lots of ways,” replied Johnny. 

“ Sure, I know that.” Porky blinked as his 
thoughts went to Old Hank. “ See you later,” 
he said suddenly, and hustled off to the school. 

“ Come in! ” growled a voice as Porky knocked 
on the door of a room on the third floor. 

Porky entered. 

Old Hank, in clerical black clothes, sat low in 
a deep leather chair. A copy of Virgil was in 
his hand. “ What do you want, Taylor? ” 

“Please, sir, I’ve come to ask about to-mor- 


BINGO 269 

row’s test, sir. I—I—I wanted to study for it, 
sir.” 

Old Hank merely stared without speaking. 

Porky for the moment could say no more; Old 
Hank, to tell the truth, had him scared: for Old 
Hank had little brown eyes and a long square- 
cut brown beard. 

“ Oooh! ” thought Porky and he swallowed 
hard. “ Please, sir,” he managed at last to begin 
again, “ I haven’t had much time to study lately, 
sir. Would you please tell me, sir, what will 
happen if I don’t pass the test? ” 

Porky now thought he saw a twinkle in Old 
Hank’s little brown eyes—a twinkle which boded 
no good. 

“When I was a boy,” the Piety master was 
saying, “ what you are doing this moment, Tay¬ 
lor, was called ‘ pulling the plug ’: trying to get 
out of something by asking the master questions 
or getting the master interested in matters be¬ 
sides the point.” 

“ Yes, sir,” gulped Porky. 

u The penalty for failure to-morrow, Taylor, 
will be enough lines to keep you busy for a 
week.” 

" O gee! ” exclaimed Porky. 


270 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ That’s right! ” returned Old Hank. 

Nevertheless Porky plunged on: “Will you 
please tell me, sir,” he asked, “ was Moses really 
born in the bulrushes or did he just grow up 
there? ” 

Old Hank tossed his whiskers upward with 
the back of his right hand. “ Pulling the plug 
again, eh? Now what do you really want? ” 

“ If—I could get out of that Piety test, sir, for 
to-morrow,” declared Porky with a guileless 
chuckle, “and maybe have it postponed until 
Monday, sir, that would be a pretty good thing.” 

“ It would, would it? ” Old Hank now 
laughed; but it was a deep laugh—which came 
from the bottom of about a foot and a half of 
whiskers. “ Doubtless it would be a pretty good 
thing, Taylor. But why? ” 

“ The nervous strain, sir,” responded Porky as 
though from a stroke of genius, “the nervous 
strain, sir.” 

“ Get out of here! ” returned Old Hank. 
“ You’ll have me giving in in a minute! ” 

Thus the blow fell. 

Forgotten at once were Porky’s thoughts of 
immediate vengeance upon George Case: Porky 
must direct all his powers of concentration upon 


BINGO 


271 


escape from the horrors of the morrow. He didn’t 
know a thing about Piety; and now that Old 
Hank was “ on ” to him, the punishment for fail¬ 
ure to pass undoubtedly would be worse! 

In deep thought, Porky walked down-stairs 
to the washroom. He’d try anything once, and 
he was glad Johnny wasn’t with him. Other 
fellows had worked triumphantly what he now 
contemplated. Whereupon he turned on a cold 
water faucet, stuck his bare chest under it, then 
stood in front of an electric fan and switched on 
the current. 

“ Pooh! ” he ejaculated in disgust after a few 
minutes. He hadn’t even gotten a chill! Catch¬ 
ing cold would be too slow, anyway: to-morrow 
was when he had to be sick; not the day after. 

He proceeded to the Armory. T. J. chanced 
to be standing at the opposite end of the room. 
Porky managed to slip on the bare floor and to 
fall heavily. Then he arose with much groaning, 
and hopped around on one leg. “ Oh! Oh! It’s 
busted I guess! Colonel Meadows, it’s busted! 
I’m gone! ” he bellowed as he unsuccessfully tried 
to suppress a grin. 

“ Can you put it down, man? ” asked the Com¬ 
mandant as he ran up. 


272 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Oh! Oh! Let’s see, sir, I’ll try, sir! ” 
Porky put an arm on T. J.’s shoulder; then 
slowly straightened his leg toward the floor. 

“ Can you move it back again, man? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ It isn’t broken, then, Taylor.” 

“ No, sir; but it’s probably sprained, though, 
something terrible. Oh! Oh! ” 

“ Won’t do, old man,” replied the Commandant 
softly. “ Won’t do: I’ve just seen Mr. Hankey.” 

Thereupon Porky limped out of the Armory. 
Next he went to his alcove in Dormitory E, 
where he made another great effort: he bumped 
his head against the window sill with the hope 
that a big lump would cause sufficient sympathy 
in Mrs. Preston, the matron, to guide him safely 
throughout the next day. 

“ What’s the matter, cuckoo? ” broke in a dis¬ 
turbing voice. “ That isn’t hard enough! ” It 
was Johnny who had been on a hunt for him. 

“ Nothing’s the matter,” answered the Porcu¬ 
pine gruffly. “ Only I’m thinking.” 

Johnny surveyed him with heart-cracking 
scorn. 

Porky gave up all previous schemes; for a new 
light suddenly came to him. 


BINGO 


273 

“ I know what! ” he concluded to himself. 
“We get pancakes every Thursday night. No¬ 
body will ever suspect me of anything, if I want 
to eat a lot of ’em.” 

His grin returned and he took his usual swat 
at Johnny. 

Hence at supper that night, Porky bet a nickel 
with every boy near him that he could eat forty 
pancakes without stopping and could swallow 
twelve of them without chewing them, provided 
each boy would contribute a proper number of 
pancakes. 

“ Sure I will! ” yelled Fatty. 

And that began it. 

“ Come on, you guys! ” laughed Porky. 

And inasmuch as no master presided at the 
table where Porky ate, the contributions came 
thick and fast. 

“ If he wants to die of internal spontaneous 
combustion, let him! ” laughed Myron from the 
end of the table. 

So Porky ate pancakes and pancakes and then 
more pancakes, while the crowd at the table 
counted with accuracy and without mercy. And 
Porky’s ruddy face soon turned a deep red as 
the perspiration stood out on his forehead. 


274 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Go it, you old Porcupine! ” cried Fatty. 

“ Go it!” added Johnny. 

Porky stuck manfully to his task. 

“ Twenty-four! ” counted Johnny. 

“ Twenty-five!” yelled Fatty. 

“ Oou!” groaned Porky. 

“ Twenty-six!—seven!—eight! ” 

“ Swallow the last twelve now without chewing 
’em, Pork!” ordered Johnny. 

Porky tried his best; he swallowed one; 
choked; sputtered; gave up. 

They carried him out! 

But he had won! Old Hank was defeated. 
For merciful castor oil did the rest. And Porky 
spent the night in the Infirmary. But he was 
white and weak and suffering mightily as he lay 
in bed all the next day. 

“Do you think you’ll live, Taylor?” inquired 
Old Hank as the Porcupine crawled out of the 
Infirmary after twenty-four hours of incarcera¬ 
tion. 

“ Yes, sir,” Porky replied with a wan smile. 
“ I’m better now, sir.” 

“We’ll have the test on Monday, then,” said 
Old Hank. 

“ Thank you, sir,” answered Porky meekly. 



BINGO 


275 

. So during that Friday, which was the day be¬ 
fore the St. James Tournament, the school had 
plenty of excitement: it laughed at Porky; it 
prepared for the Tournament by shining up and 
putting in order all military equipment; it won¬ 
dered what would happen about Myron Angus; 
it debated regarding the outcome of the Single 
Combats; and it waited expectantly all day long 
for the return of Bingo. 

Six o’clock, seven o’clock came; but no Bingo; 
and finally “ tattoo ” and “ taps.” 

By breakfast the next morning, however, all 
knew that the Commanding Officer had returned 
during the night. 

But this day was the day of the St. James 
Tournament. St. James would be on hand by 
noon. Victory or defeat would be determined 
within a few hours. 

Shortly after Chapel the clear notes of a bugle 
rang out “ first call.” Then “ assembly ” sounded, 
and the battalion leaped into line. 

Myron Angus called the roll of Company A; 
Sergeant Sands the roll of Company B. Both 
men about-faced. 

“ Sir: all are present and accounted for,” they 
reported to their respective captains. 


276 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Company A—Stand at-—Ease! ” cried forth 
Captain Atkins. 

“ Company B—Stand at—Ease! ” sang out 
Captain Varick. 

“ The school will be dismissed now until noon, 
when Inspection will be held,” spoke Colonel 
Thomas Jefferson Meadows, who stepped in front 
of the battalion. “ St. James arrives at one 
o’clock in time for dinner. Each man of you 
should see that every bit of his equipment is in 
perfect shape. The way each cadet is turned out 
will count much for the school.” 

T. J. looked over his cadets. “ You’re fine, gen¬ 
tlemen,” he commented. “ I’m proud of you; 
you’ll win, too.” Again he paused but went on 
quickly, a smile upon his kindly face: “ The duty 
of every cadet to-day is to keep uppermost in his 
heart loyalty to his corps and faith in its officers. 

u Our Squad leader as well as our Single-Com¬ 
bat representatives will remain as previously an¬ 
nounced. Chatham expects every man to do his 
duty! ” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


ST. JAMES ATTACKS 

“ Old Myron! ” whispered Porky, as the five 
chnms stood near the rifle racks immediately 
after the battalion had been dismissed. “ Do 
you think this means you’re cleared now, 
Myron? ” 

“ Xot yet,” responded Myron quietly, “ or T. J. 
would have said so.” 

“ I agree,” offered Schoharie the Silent. 

“What else then could T. J. have meant?” 
asked Johnny. 

“ I think he meant that Bingo and he feel sure 
that Myron is all right,” said Schoharie, “ but 
they haven’t quite cleared Myron yet, and that 
meantime the school should have faith in Bingo 
and think only of licking St. James.” 

Porky looked solemn; Fatty Williams’ big gray 
eyes grew round; his face was very red. 

A small cadet stepped up to Myron. 

“ Colonel Crawford wishes to see you in his 
study, Sergeant Angus,” he said respectfully. 

277 


278 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Myron started off at once, while the other boys 
went out to join the large crowd which already 
had gathered about the horse-block, anxious to 
miss nothing. 

Claymore, Richards A, and Tibbotts stood to¬ 
gether. 

George Case came out of the building, caught 
sight of the swarm of cadets, and turned back 
again. 

Atkins W, Yarick, Fred Barclay and many 
other commissioned officers were passing among 
the crowd and saying to all in sight: 

“ Get your stuff in ship-shape to-day now! ” 

“ Is your rifle polished O. K. ? ” 

“ Is your belt-buckle shined? ” 

“ Hey, you! Get in there and put a better 
shine on your shoes! ” 

So nearly every cadet in school, while he pos¬ 
sessed much curiosity concerning Angus and the 
Commandant’s undoubted reference to him, cen¬ 
tered his mind upon winning the great Tourna¬ 
ment. 

“ If we should win all the Military events, the 
Tournament would be ours. We wouldn’t need 
to get one of the Single Combats,” declared a 
long thin fourth-former. 


ST. JAMES ATTACKS 279 

“ That’s not likely,” came from a stout-backed 
fellow. 

“ I hope Fred Barclay’s in shape, though.” 

“ So do I.” 

“Have you seen him?” 

“You bet! He looks fine, too.” 

These remarks were typical; so were the fol¬ 
lowing : 

“ If Fred wins the Platoon Drill and Angus the 
Manual-of-Arms, we’d only need to win two Sin¬ 
gle Combats.” 

“ That’s right.” 

“ Kind of wish Fred were in the boxing, too.” 

“ So do I.” 

“ But no man could carry all three events 
against those St. James fellows. They’re good. 
Don’t make any mistake about that.” 

Many noddings of heads took place at this. 
Then: 

“ Glad, at that, old Bingo is letting Angus go 
on. We’ve just got to win.” 

“ I hope nothing happens! ” put in Sergeant 
Sands, who had been silent up to then. 

“ We won’t let anything happen! ” answered 
Schoharie. 

“ Huh! ” It was Richards A, sarcastically. 


280 the cadet sergeant 


“ I suppose if Angus is cleared, Sands, you’d 
even like to see him Senior Captain? ” 

“ I might,” replied Sands. 

“ Well, he won’t be cleared. But if he should 
be, what’s he done to be Senior Captain, any¬ 
way? Look at Fred Barclay! ” 

At this moment Johnny Hayes mounted the 
horse-block with a determination to begin im¬ 
mediately his part in helping to lick Durham. 
“ Fellows,” he cried, his long arms extended in 
front of him, so that his red wrists showed from 
under his cuffs, “ we’ve only a short while before 
we have to get ready for Inspection. Let’s prac¬ 
tise the yell and try the old song. 

“ Ready now! A c C. M. S. ’ ! One! Two! 
Three! ” and the crowd responded: 

“Ray! Ray! Ray!! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M. S.! C. M.S.! C.M.S.! 

Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! ” 

“ Now the song! ” cried Johnny, his big mouth 
wide open. And as Johnny beat time, the cadets 
sang: 

“ Oh, here’s to dear old Chatham, 

The School that we all love! 

At ’em! At ’em! At ’em! 


ST. JAMES ATTACKS 281 

Our war-cry sounds above 
The roar of daily strife; 

And you can bet your life 
We’re ‘ At ’em! At ’em! At ’em! ’ 

For Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! 
Whom we love, love, love! ” 

Soon afterward “ first call ” for Inspection 
sounded. The boys rushed into the Armory. “ As¬ 
sembly ” was blown. 

And then, just as Inspection was completed 
and the strain of waiting seemed almost more 
than could be endured, the first notes of a band 
were heard from the direction of Niagara Falls. 
Hearts almost stopped as the fighting instinct 
gripped cadet breasts. Every man knew that St. 
James Durham at last was nearing Chatham’s 
gates. 

The Chatham battalion stood at “ Port Arms ” 
on the Armory floor as that St. James music 
floated in through the open windows. 

“ Right Shoulder!—Arms! ” thundered T. J. 
at once. He turned to Captains Atkins and 
Varick. “ Durham is a little ahead of sched¬ 
ule ! ” he said. 

Many cadets heard him. 

“ Right by Squads!—March! ” he then cried 
out. “ Column Left!—March! ” 


282 THE CADET SERGEANT 


The battalion marched out of the Armory: out 
onto the wide drive where it was swung into bat¬ 
talion front before the main building and brought 
to a halt. The school band was at the right of 
the line. 

The martial music of St. James Durham drew 
nearer. The St. James battalion now was well 
within the Chatham grounds. 

“ Present—Arms! ” commanded Colonel Mead¬ 
ows. 

Click! Click! Click! His men obeyed. 

Now the St. James band seemed almost upon 
the Chatham battalion. It was playing El 
Capitan. 

But suddenly its music ceased. A low-voiced 
command from Hertzog was heard. The Chat¬ 
ham band struck up “ The Stars and Stripes 
Forever.” Never had its music sounded so thrill¬ 
ing. Every Chatham heart tingled. T. J. in 
front of the line, brought his saber to the salute. 

The head of the St. James battalion now 
reached the right of the Chatham line. The St. 
James Commandant, a bronzed thin man, his 
cap pulled down low over his eyes, his cap-band 
under his chin, passed T. J. With saber raised 
before him, he returned Colonel Meadows’ salute. 


ST. JAMES ATTACKS 283 

Close at his heels marched the long St. James 
battalion in columns of fours. Slush! Slush! 
sounded their feet upon the gravel drive. Their 
cadet uniforms were blue, with yellow stripes 
down the outer seam of the trousers legs. The 
cadets themselves looked big, well set up, and 
especially fierce in their low-fitting caps, with 
straps under their chins. 

u Column Right!—March! ” The command 
was given by the Commandant of St. James 
Durham in a sharp staccato. St. James turned 
in toward the Chatham Armory. 

“ Look at that Commandant! ” thought many 
a gray-bloused cadet. 

“ Order!—Arms! ” rang out T. J. as the last 
man of St. James went by. 

Click! Click! Click! 

The Chatham band then ceased to play. 

“ Fix!—Bayonets! ” cried out Colonel Mead¬ 
ows. 

“ Stack!—Arms! ” 

A guard was placed about the Chatham 
stacked rifles; the Chatham battalion was dis¬ 
missed; and the cadets thereupon went in¬ 
formally into the Armory to act as hosts to their 
guests. 



284 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ What you guys doing with the yellow stripe 
on your pants ?” asked Johnny, always conver¬ 
sationally inclined, of the St. Janies man who 
sat beside him at dinner. 

“ Cavalry next year,” answered the Durham 
man laconically. 

“ Got any horses yet? ” 

“ Thirty of ’em; came yesterday.” 

“Phew!” whistled Johnny softly. Somehow 
this news seemed to Johnny to be a bad omen 
for the day. 

Indeed the magnificent military bearing of the 
whole St. James battalion forced serious thoughts 
into the head of many a Chatham cadet that 
noon. 

Shortly after every one had sat down for din¬ 
ner, Colonel Crawford entered the Mess Hall; 
and beside him, in the uniform of a Brigadier 
General of the United States Army, walked a 
stocky man with a bull neck, a bullet head, and 
beady eyes. 

“ General King! ” swept over the room in awe¬ 
some whispers. 

“ Battalion!—Attention! ” commanded T. J., 
who immediately had jumped to his feet. 

“ Battalion!—Attention! ” came instantly also 


ST. JAMES ATTACKS 285 

from the thin bronzed-faced Durham Comman¬ 
dant, who likewise had leaped up. 

Three hundred chairs scraped against the 
floor; three hundred cadets stood stiffly at atten¬ 
tion ; General King sat down. 

At two o’clock, Guard Mount was scheduled: 
the first of the competitions. 

Even as the cadets marched out from Mess 
Hall, crowds of visitors were on the campus. 
Automobiles were parked in every available space 
on the drive which skirted the campus and wound 
through the pines to the Lewiston Koad. 

The day was beautiful and warm with a bril¬ 
liant high sun. Men and boys in blazers and 
flannels, ladies and young girls in light-colored 
summer dresses stood around in groups in the 
shadow of the pines; and laughed and speculated 
on the outcome of the great Tournament, which 
meant so much. 

At length the bands, both of which were on 
the campus, began to play. 

“ Good luck, Myron!” whispered Porky on the 
walk. 

“ Thanks,” smiled Myron. “ Good luck for the 
school is more like it, though.” 

“ I know,” grinned Porky. 


286 THE CADET SERGEANT 


“ First call ” came from the front of the main 
building: Chatham’s bugle. 

The gray-uniformed cadets moved toward their 
stacked arms. 

Schoharie, Fatty, Johnny, all stepped up to 
Myron and wrung him by the hand. Then Myron 
suddenly left them, and walked over to the horse¬ 
block and Fred Barclay. 

“ Best of luck on earth, Fred,” he said. 

“ Same to you, old fellow.” 

And the two finest athletes Chatham had 
known in years gripped each other’s right hands. 

“ Not so afraid of our chances because of those 
two men,” commented Johnny, “ but I didn’t like 
the looks of that battalion much; they sure are 
well drilled.” 

“ A lot this afternoon, all right, will be on the 
shoulders of Fred Barclay and Myron Aoigus in 
the Single Combats! ” replied Fatty Williams. 

“ Assembly ” then was sounded, and Chatham 
hopped into line. The first of the competitions 
in the great St. James Tournament was about 
to begin: Guard Mount. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE MILITARY TOURNAMENT 

There goes General King now. He is walking 
slowly in front of the Chatham battalion! Bingo 
is with him, tall, straight, his gray face slightly 
flushed, his short gray hair blowing a trifle in 
the small breeze: Bingo is in khaki, too. The 
Headmaster of St. James has just arrived. He 
wears a Major General’s uniform. 

They are all on their way to the campus where 
General King is to act as judge. 

“ Bingo is the best-looking soldier in that 
bunch, anyway! ” whispered Johnny. 

“ Sure,” said Schoharie, also under his breath. 

And nearly every Chatham cadet was thinking 
the same thing. 

At last came St. James from out of the 
Armory. They marched smartly past the Chat¬ 
ham battalion now drawn up in line on the drive 
in front of the main building and facing them; 
a moment more, and St. James would be on the 
campus. 


287 


288 THE CADET SERGEANT 


The gray battalion followed the bine almost 
instantly. T. J. at once lined up his cadets on 
the west side of the campus between the gym¬ 
nasium and the big pine below the tennis courts. 
Then rifles again w T ere stacked; and the command 
to fall out was given. The temporary relaxation 
was thoroughly appreciated. 

St. James would be first to execute maneuvers. 
The Mounting of the Guard began prettily, and 
no mistake. Every Chatham eye w r atched it 
intently. 

And when the St. James Adjutant finally 
commanded: “ Parade!—Rest! Sound Off! ” 
and as the St. James Band struck the three 
chords of Sound Off, the Chatham cadets were 
prepared to state that the job was being mighty 
well done. 

“ Guard!—Attention! Close Ranks!—March! ” 
now commanded the St. James Adjutant. 

“ Present!—Arms! ” 

“ Sir, the Guard is formed! ” 

Then from the new St. James Officer of the 
Day: “ March the Guard in review, sir! ” 
Whereat the Guard passed in review with the 
band playing; and the Adjutant and the Com¬ 
mander of the Guard saluted the Officer of the 


THE MILITARY TOURNAMENT 289 

Day together; and the leaders of the platoons 
and the Drum and Sergeant Majors saluted. 

Thus finally the St. James Guard was con¬ 
sidered mounted; and left the campus. 

Tremendous applause from all sides followed. 

♦ 

Chatham cheered them again and again. 

Bugle-calls rang out: “ first call ” ; then “ as¬ 
sembly.” Chatham leaped into line. 

The Chatham Guard Mount also was done 
superbly. Yarick acted as Commander of the 
Guard; Myron Angus as Sergeant Major. 

But when all was over, General King’s beady 
eyes didn’t even blink as he announced quietly 
to the St. James Headmaster and to Bingo: 

“ Durham’s event.” 

The score of the Tournament therefore was: 

Chatham 0. St. James 1. 

The Platoon Drill came next, with Chatham 
leading off. Second Lieutenant Fred Barclay 
was in command. The gray-bloused cadets who 
were not in his platoon yelled: 

“Ray! Ray! Ray! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M. S.! C. M. S.! C.M.S.! 

Chatham! Chatham! Chatham!” 


2 9 o THE CADET SERGEANT 

Fred Barclay’s dark eyes flashed. He had 
drilled hard number one platoon of Company A, 
and he felt confident. Angus was his platoon 
Sergeant and second in command; George Case 
was a platoon guide. 

Again bugles sounded “ first call ” ; then “ as¬ 
sembly.” Fred’s men jumped into their double¬ 
rank formation: Case at the right, Angus behind 
the right flank man of the rear rank. Fred 
stood before the center of the line. Every man 
in the platoon could see amongst the pines the 
faces of the audience before him. Every man ap¬ 
peared fixed with determination. 

Then suddenly directly in front of Case a 
slight movement took place in the crowd. A 
newcomer had arrived: a man; and with him was 
a small black-haired boy, with a thin pale face, 
upon which were set thick spectacles. 

The boy was in citizen’s clothes; but George 
Case recognized him at once, and nearly col¬ 
lapsed at the fateful sight. 

“ Sir, Lieutenant Barclay, please,” spoke out 
Case, half aloud, his voice shaking, “ may I be 
—be excused, sir? I’m—I’m sick, sir-” 

Fred Barclay stepped up to Case quickly. 
“Sick! You’ll be dead,” he spat forth in a 



THE MILITARY TOURNAMENT 291 

hoarse mutter, “ if you open up your face like 
that again.” 

“ Y-yes—sir.” 

“ What’s the matter with you? ” 

“ ^-nothing, sir. That is—y-you di-didn’t see, 
sir.” 

“ I saw nothing; and neither did you! ” 

Fred Barclay returned to his post. 

The drill went on; was concluded in its time 
allotment of ten minutes. And Fred and num¬ 
ber one platoon of Company A had given a mag¬ 
nificent show to the visitors, their judge, and the 
school. 

The moment it was over, and while applause 
still was ringing forth, Colonel Meadows came 
up to Case and in an undertone said: “ Colonel 
Crawford wishes to see you, Case, in his study, 
as soon as the Tournament is finished. You may 
go to your alcove now and remain there under 
guard until sent for, or you may stay here in 
plain sight and watch the Tournament. Take 
your choice.” 

“Fll stay here, sir,” murmured George, his 
face deathly white. 

But Johnny and Fatty each had heard T. J. 

“ Myron! Myron! ” they chortled in glee. 


292 THE CADET SERGEANT 

“ Get this! Get this: ” and they whispered 
swiftly the information they had gleaned. 

“ Never mind,” replied Myron. “ We want to 
see this drill.” 

The St. James platoon already had started; 
and how it did drill! Applause from everywhere 
broke forth spontaneously as evolution followed 
evolution, each splendidly done. Soon though 
the drill was over. 

“Ray! St. James! Ray! St. James! 

Jiminy! Jiminy! Jiminy! 

Raaaaaaay! St. James! Durham! ” 

cheered the blue-coated cadets, who were not 
with the drilling platoon. 

But Fred Barclay had drilled his men like a 
master. The stocky bull-necked General an¬ 
nounced quietly: 

“ Chatham’s event! ” 

“ Oh! Wow!” 

Chatham cadets yelled and danced and hugged 
one another. 

Score now: 

Chatham 1. St. James 1. 

“ Angus! ” 


THE MILITARY TOURNAMENT 293 

“ Yes, sir,” Myron swung around. The C. O. 
of Chatham was at his shoulder. 

“ Hiller is here, as you’ve probably seen,” said 
Bingo, his gray face as usual quite expression¬ 
less. “ Put this paper in your pocket and read 
it later. Be sure not to lose it. You’ll have to 
hurry now. Your Manual-of-Arms Squad is next 
on the program.” 

“ Thank you, sir.” Myron put a folded paper 
into his right hip-pocket; saluted; hurried off to 
the gymnasium at the end of the campus, to get 
his Star Squad ready. 

Another bugle call was sounding. Myron 
gathered his squad around him: Sco, Johnny, 
Drum Major Hertzog, Fatty, Dickson, Beatty A, 
Beatty W. Only one thought could be with 
Myron now. The score was tied. The Star Squad 
must win. 

u Fellows, listen for the commands; concen¬ 
trate ; keep cool! ” he said easily and with a 
smile. “ Then we’ve got ’em. Come on, boys! 
Fall in! ” 

A great yell from the crowd on the campus 
went up. It was for the St. James Manual-of- 
Arms Star Squad which at that moment had 
finished its drill. 


294 THE CADET SERGEANT 

And then, under Atkins W’s leadership, a 
chorus of Chathamites sang: 

“ Oh, here’s to dear old Chatham 
The School that we all love! 

At ’em! At ’em! At ’em! 

Our war-cry sounds above 
The roar of daily strife; 

And you can bet your life 
We’re ‘At ’em! At ’em! At ’em! ’ 

For Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! 

Whom we love, love, love! ” 

Myron marched his men out on the center of 
the campus; swung them in front of the audience 
and General King. Near T. J. and not far from 
the General stood George Case—Case the liar! 

For a moment only Myron gazed upon him; 
then his voice rang out: 

“ Squad!—Halt! ” 

His Squad stopped as one man; the rifles came 
to the order as with one blow. 

“ Right! Shoulder!—Arms! ” 

Click! Click! Click! 

“ Port!—Arms! ” 

Click! Click! 

“ Order!—Arms! ” 

And so on through the whole category. The 
Star Squad obeyed each time in perfect unison. 




THE MILITARY TOURNAMENT 295 

General King smiled. T. J., Bingo, even the 
St. James Headmaster did likewise. Applause 
from all sides was given heartily and almost 
continuously. 

And as all was over, General King declared 
emphatically: 

“ Chatham wins! ” 

“ Yeay! Yeaaaaay! ” 

Hats flew high. Chatham fellows yelled and 
pounded one another. The score now was: 

Chatham 2. St. James 1. 

“ Old Myron! Fine! ” burst forth Fred Bar¬ 
clay enthusiastically as Myron dismissed his 
Squad. 

“ You started the winning streak, though, 
Fred,” grinned Myron happily. 

Now Myron was forced to hurry away in order 
to change from his fatigue blouse into his dress 
coat for the Review, which was the last event 
before the Single Combats. As he ran toward 
the gymnasium, where his clothes were laid out, 
he pulled the note from his hip-pocket; read it 
swiftly; slammed it back into his pocket; drew 
a deep breath; ran on again. 

The Review of the Troops by General King was 



296 THE CADET SERGEANT 

accomplished without delay. St. James passed 
by first, with Chatham immediately behind them. 

It is not necessary to draw' out the details of 
that Review. Quite plainly in movements of 
military units larger than a platoon, St. James 
that day excelled Chatham. 

General King’s decision was quickly an¬ 
nounced. 

When the Review was over, the St. James 
Band played, “ Hail! Hail! The Gang’s All 
Here! ” 

The Tournament then would be decided by the 
Single Combats! For the score now stood: 2 to 2. 

The Chatham battalion marched into the 
Armory; put away its rifles. St. James stacked 
arms on the campus. 

Five minutes later, the gymnasium was 
crowded. In the center of the floor the arena for 
wrestling was ready, called a “ ring ” in spite 
of its shape. It was twenty feet square, well 
equipped with padded mat and proper ropes. 

“ My! Look at Fred! ” exclaimed Fatty Wil¬ 
liams in admiration. 

Already Barclay was standing in his corner in 
sleeveless gymnasium outfit, his back resting 
easily against the ropes. 


THE MILITARY TOURNAMENT 297 

u He’s in fine trim, all right,” commented 
Myron in admiration. 

“ Three cheers for Barclay! ” cried out Johnny. 
“ Hip! Hip! ” and the crowd yelled: 

“Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

Barclay, old boy! ” 

“ Three cheers for Henderson! ” It was a 
voice from St. James. The bine responded: 

“Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

Henderson, old boy! ” 

Henderson, St. James’s wrestling champion, 
stepped into the ring. He was a bigger fellow 
even than Fred—fully six feet, one, and weigh¬ 
ing at least one hundred and ninety pounds. 
Henderson looked the part of a great wrestler. 
He shook a shaggy blond head and scowled at 
Fred from underneath shaggy blond eyebrows. 

Two bouts of four minutes each would be 
wrestled. And if no falls occurred, the man 
who had showed the greater aggressiveness and 
wrestling ability would be declared the winner. 

“Are you ready, men?” the referee, Captain 
Edmonds from Fort Magara, called from the 
center of the ring. 

Both wrestlers nodded. 


CHAPTER XXV 


SINGLE COMBAT 

“ Time ! ” The gong on the Gym wall sounded! 

Barclay and Henderson approached each 
other; smiled; shook hands; stood off from each 
other momentarily. Each had his left foot for¬ 
ward, his arms bent and far before him, his body 
slightly stooped, muscles flexed, chin low. 

For a few seconds, they feinted for position. 
Then Fred moved as for the St. James man’s 
head; Henderson raised his eyes and hands. 

Fred dived toward the floor; grabbed the out¬ 
side of Henderson’s left heel with his right hand; 
and, at the same moment, hurled his left shoul¬ 
der against the inside of Henderson’s left knee, 
as his own left arm went around the knee and 
his hand gripped it. 

“ Oh, wow! ” yelled the Chatham crowd. 

“ Look out! ” warned St. James Durham. 

Surprise and fear shot into the Durham wres¬ 
tler’s face. 

Simultaneously Fred dropped to his own right 

298 


SINGLE COMBAT 


299 


knee, forced his body well under Henderson’s 
and pressed with all his power outward and 
backward. 

Henderson saw that he must fall; but now, 
wisely, instead of fighting back, he attempted to 
turn clear to the left; step cleanly over Fred and 
so reach a safe position on hands and knees. 

But Fred’s quickness was too much for him. 
Fred landed him into a semi-reclining position, 
the point of his left elbow supporting his body 
upright on the floor. Fred pushed his chest in 
between Henderson’s legs, lifted the bigger man’s 
left leg and foot, and so compelled Henderson to 
turn slightly to the right; then Fred, still keep¬ 
ing his body between his opponent’s legs, arose; 
while with the same movement he slid his arms 
around Henderson’s thighs and raised them 
upward. 

St. James was awestruck. 

“A fall! A fall! ” yelled Chatham excitedly. 

But not yet! 

For while Henderson’s head and arms now 
flopped to the floor with his face and chest up¬ 
ward, his shoulders were far from down. 

“ Barclay! Barclay! Barclay! ” shrieked 

Chatham. 


3 oo THE CADET SERGEANT 

Fred held to his work coolly, relentlessly. The 
St. James man writhed and fought. But Fred 
had those big thighs in a vise-like grip and he 
pushed himself slowly forward and downward 
over his opponent’s upturned body, until finally 
weight and strength forced the shoulders of the 
St. James man flat against the mat. 

Chatham went wild. 

A minute’s intermission followed; and this 
time when the wrestling again had started, Hen¬ 
derson was caught almost immediately in a fly¬ 
ing mare; was downed in less than fifty seconds. 

“Yow! Wow!” 

“ O boy! ” 

“ Who said that big guy could wrestle? ” cried 
Johnny. 

u All he can do is make faces! ” thundered 
Fatty. 

The crowd danced and yelled. 

The Tournament score now stood: 

Chatham 3. St. James 2. 

“ Are you all right, Fred, to go into gymnastics 
after a ten-minutes’ rest?” asked Monty anx¬ 
iously. 

“ Sure,” replied Fred, with a smile. 


SINGLE COMBAT 


301 


“ He ought not to be made to go, Colonel 
Meadows,” protested Monty. “ They’re putting 
in a fresh man.” 

“ We’ve had that privilege; but we’ve told them 
Barclay would represent us,” answered T. J. 
u We can ask no favors.” 

“ I’m all right,” repeated Fred. 

While Fred still was resting from wrestling, 
the St. James gymnast began his exhibition. 

Chatham saw at once that the work of Fred’s 
rival on both the horizontal and parallel bars 
was marvelous in all ordinary movements. But 
he had no Giant’s Swing either forward or back¬ 
ward. 

u That’s where Fred will get him,” murmured 
Myron. 

Now the Durham man finished. Again came 
applause. Breathlessly Chatham awaited Fred’s 
appearance. 

Once more Fred stepped out onto the floor. 
He appeared cool and strong; his cheeks were 
ruddy, and without a sign of strain in them; his 
big arm-muscles rippled as he moved. 

Myron Angus, fascinated, watched Fred’s 
graceful leap up to the parallels; watched the 
beautiful short and long arm dips; beheld him 


302 THE CADET SERGEANT 

finish them and walk, amidst cheers, to the hori¬ 
zontal. He chinned himself easily; first with one 
hand and then with the other; stood off a couple 
of feet, leaped up to the bar, did an upstart, and 
then a perfect forward Giant’s Swing. Never 
had Myron seen him more wonderful. 

“ Better go in now and change your things, old 
fellow, and get ready for boxing,” cautioned T. J. 
at Myron’s shoulder. 

“All right, sir,” smiled Myron as he turned 
his head. “ Isn’t Fred great though? We’ve got 
the Tournament won, sir. He’s done it! ” 

“ Wouldn’t be surprised,” grinned T. J. “ But 
you get in and show them wiiat a real boxer can 
do, anyway, and we’ll pile up a score.” 

“ I’ll try, sir.” Myron took a last admiring 
look at Fred and started to leave the floor to 
get into his boxing togs. 

Then suddenly there went up a terrible groan 
of agony from the crowd; and a thud of some¬ 
thing heavy striking the floor sounded through¬ 
out the building. 

Myron rushed back. Fred had fallen! It was 
that backward Giant’s Swing. Fred’s grip had 
loosened as his body at arms’ length w r ith head 
down was in a perpendicular position above the 


SINGLE COMBAT 


3°3 

bar, and he had dropped to the floor like a plum¬ 
met. He had not had enough time for rest. 

But Fred had managed to break his fall with 
his hands. Now he was again upon his feet. 
He wanted to try that backward Giant’s once 
more. 

“ No,” the referee shook his head. “ You’ve 
had your chance, my boy,” he said and called 
out: 

“ St. James’s event! ” 

The Tournament score was 

Chatham 3. St. James 3. 

Myron Angus’s jaws closed tight. Defeat or 
victory for the school at last depended upon him. 
Automatically he again started on his way to 
change his clothes. He wasn’t thinking of 
George Case now, or of lead slugs, the Senior 
Captaincy, or anything save a plan for this 
battle which was at hand. 

Three rounds of two minutes each, with a 
minute interval between them was what the bout 
called for. 

Myron did not speak as he slipped into his 
sleeveless jersey. Schoharie and Porky helped 
him to tighten his belt. 


304 THE CADET SERGEANT 

On tlie Gym floor Chatham and St. James 
cheered and sang. 

“ I’ve seen their man, Myron,” whispered 
Monty, “ and talked with a lot of fellows who 
have seen him box; he’s a little bigger than yon, 
and a slugger. Don’t mix it with him, boy. But 
you can beat him if you go after him from the 
gong by fast, scientific boxing.” 

Myron nodded. He was ready. 

“Ray! St. James! Ray! St. James! Ray! St. James! 
Jimmy! Jiminy! Jiminy! 

Raaaaaaay! St. James! . . . Durham! 

Gray! Old Boy!” 

came from one hundred and seventy-odd throats. 

Myron’s black eyes flashed; a slight smile 
flitted across his face. 

“Ray! Ray! Ray! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M.S.! C. M. S.! C. M. S.! 

Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! 

Angus! Old boy! ” 

whipped back instantly. 

“ Aaaaaaaay! ” 

Gray, the St. James valiant, was at the battle 
point. 


SINGLE COMBAT 


305 


ee Come on, Myron/’ said Monty. 

Tlie four started out from the dressing-room 
built for the occasion. The crowd on the Gym 
floor seemed tremendous. 

“Aaay! Aaaay! Three cheers for Myron 
Angus! ” It was Johnny Hayes’ voice, followed 
by the thunders of Chatham: “ Hip! Hip! ” 

“ Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

Myron Angus! Myron Angus! Myron Angus! 

Tiger! ” 


Monty left them to join T. J. 

Schoharie and Porky escorted Myron through 
the crowd to the ring. 

“ Fight your own game, old fellow,” murmured 
Porky, as he held up a rope of the ring so that 
Myron could crawl through. 

“ That’s best,” added the Silent Man. 

Again Myron nodded. 

“ Are you all right? ” whispered Porky and 
grinned. 

“ Yes,” answered Myron. 

Porky and Schoharie pulled the big ten-ounce 
gloves on Myron’s hands. 

The referee was at his post in the center of 
the mat. Two judges were at the ropes. In 


3 o6 the cadet sergeant 

a corner of the ring diagonally across from 
Myron stood the St. James boxer. 

“ Are you ready, men? ” called the referee. 

Myron and Gray of St. James quickly ap¬ 
proached each other; smiled; and shook hands 
before the referee. 

Not a murmur was heard from the crowd. 

The gong sounded! Time! 

Monty was right: Gray jumped into the m£16e 
on the instant. He was a rugged chap of per¬ 
haps one hundred and seventy pounds, and was 
about two inches taller than Angus. Apparently 
it was his purpose immediately to run Myron off 
his feet; then batter him down. He scarcely 
made a preparatory feint but instantly rushed 
and began to throw blow after blow toward 
Myron’s body and head. 

Angus, however, had learned his lessons in the 
hard school presided over by Fred Barclay. He 
gave way before Gray’s attack; side-stepped; 
slipped easily from dangerous blows by slight 
movements of his head; blocked; ducked; and 
now and again countered viciously. 

The first round ended amidst cheers. But the 
loudest came from Gray’s schoolmates. 

“Are you sure you’re all right, old fellow?” 


SINGLE COMBAT 


• 307 

asked Porky, anxiously, as Schoharie and he 
sponged the perspiration from Myron’s face 
during the one minute interval. 

Myron nodded. 

“ Wouldn’t let him get too big a lead this 
round,” whispered Schoharie. 

Once more Myron nodded. 

The gong! Time! 

Silence and anxiety held equal mastery over 
both schools. 

Again the St. James man rushed. He shot a 
straight right to the body and left to the face. 
Myron blocked both; but this time did not give 
way. Gray stepped backward a pace; hesitated 
a moment; then with left elbow slightly bent, 
suddenly moved forward again; straightened his 
arm and sent a left glove for Myron’s chin. 

“ Oh! Wow! ” broke from the crowd. 

Myron, however, put his own right hand across 
his face, took the blow on his palm; and with his 
left fist delivered a stinging smash flush against 
the St. James man’s jaw. 

Gray’s head went back. 

And Myron, with that old tiger-like movement 
he had shown against Fred earlier in the week, 
leaped into his man. Rights and lefts—One! 


3 o8 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Two! One! Two! One! Two! fell against 
Gray’s eyes, nose, mouth; and finally—one ter¬ 
rific blow hit Gray’s jaw. 

Gray, surprised, hurt, bewildered, staggered 
backward. Myron was on top of him every 
moment. Chatham shrieked: 

“Oh! Oh! Oh! 

Angus! Angus! Angus! ” 

“ Stall! ” “ Clinch! ” “ Grab him! ” begged 

St. James. 

Gray, in desperation, tried to clinch. Myron 
literally pounded him off. 

Then the St. James man, his back to the ropes, 
took to a safety block: right forearm across his 
face; chin in bend of elbow; left arm close to 
the body, upper part across heart, forearm 
against pit of stomach; and, thus protected, 
forced his way back to the center of the ring. It 
was his best course at the time. 

“Angus! Angus! Angus! ” yelled frantic 
Chatha mites. 

But the gong rang. Time! 

Round two was over. Chatham shouted and 
cheered. So also did St. James. 

Everything of importance on this earth, it 


SINGLE COMBAT 


309 

seemed now, depended upon this last round about 
to come. 

The gong! 

The two boxers approached each other: Gray 
with more caution apparently than Angus. 

Myron led; missed. 

Gray countered with a tremendous right to 
Myron’s temple. 

“Oh!” It was a groan from Johnny. All 
else was still. 

Myron staggered backward; his jaws opened; 
the pupils of his eyes rolled upward and let the 
whites show. 

“ He’s gone! ” shrieked a voice. 

Then the tension broke. Chatham yelled 
beseechments. St. James thundered encourage¬ 
ments. 

Gray was on Myron instantly. He shot a left 
to Myron’s cheeks. The blow straightened 
Myron. 

“ Clinch! Clinch! ” pleaded Chatham in des¬ 
peration. 

And then—that stout heart in Myron’s breast 
responded. With all his will power he gathered 
himself together; threw himself upon Gray. 

“ Break! ” shouted the referee. 


3 io THE CADET SERGEANT 

On the instant, Myron obeyed. His head at 
last was clear again. To regain his bearings, 
he danced backward and away from his opponent. 

“Wow! Wow! That’s it, old fellow!” 
cheered his schoolmates. 

Then Gray came on him once more, wild, de¬ 
termined, destructive. 

Myron in perfect boxing posture, awaited him. 
Gray hesitated a fraction of an instant. Myron 
feinted with his left for Gray’s body; the St. 
James man’s guard dropped; and Myron’s right 
arm shot forward with all the power of his 
splendid body behind it, 

“Aaay! Yeeaay!” 

The Chatham cadets leaped into the air. Hats 
flew high! For Cadet Gray of St. James Dur¬ 
ham was seated on the floor, his legs spread out 
flat; while both big gloved hands ran aimlessly 
over his hair, and he grinned foolishly. 

“ One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! 
Eight! Nine! Ten! ” counted the referee. Then 
he turned and held up the right arm of Myron 
Angus. 



Myron’s right arm shot forward. — Page 310 . 


ws 














CHAPTER XXVI 


FORTITER, FI DELITER, FELICITER 

Victory! And on the shoulders of Myron 
Angus! Score 4 to 3! The great Tournament 
was over. 

Myron hurried to the dressing-room and his 
rubdown. Porky, Schoharie, Fatty Williams 
and Johnny Hayes helped him to dress. A 
crowd of Old House men and dozens of others 
surrounded them, Fred Barclay included. 

“ You’re the pluckiest, finest athlete I know,” 
declared Fred, his big brown eyes shining, as he 
thrust forth his hand. 

“ Thanks, Fred,” replied Myron happily as he 
took Fred Barclay’s grip. “ I didn’t do one bit 
more than you. And I’m awfully sorry you fell, 
Fred.” 

Soon the majority of both schools ran pell-mell 
out to the campus, where they gave cheer upon 
cheer lustily, and Chatham sang paeans of vic¬ 
tory. 


311 


312 THE CADET SERGEANT 

Porky, unnoticed, had disappeared from the 
dressing-room a few minutes after Myron had 
entered it. But as the yells and songs resounded 
from the campus, he returned; and was leading 
George Case by the arm. 

“ Own up! ” ordered Porky in a terrific voice 
as he stopped his man before Myron, Fred Bar¬ 
clay, Johnny, Fatty, Schoharie and at least 
twenty others. u Own up before them all as you 
just have to me. Did you put those lead slugs 
in Myron’s alcove? Tell Myron; and be quick 
about it! ” 

George Case, his face still deathly white, with 
only the red pimples to break the lack of color, 
answered in a frightened stammer, “ Y-yes, sir.” 

“ I told him I wouldn’t hit him, Myron, if he 
came across to you,” declared Porky. “And I 
won’t—provided he doesn’t stay here too long. 
Do you want him any more? ” 

“ No,” replied Myron without comment. 

Porky turned to Case. “ Beat it,” he ordered, 
“ before I break my word and sock you! ” But 
he held him a moment longer and demanded 
fiercely, “ Is Colonel Crawford through with 
you? ” 

“ N-no, sir.” 


FORTITER, F1DELITER, FELICITER 313 

“ All right. I’ve got to let you go alive then. 
Beat it! ” 

A half-hour later, “ first call ” was sounded on 

% 

the campus by the St. James bugler; and just 
before “ assembly ” was blown Durham gave 
forth its parting yell: 

“Ray! St. James! Ray! St. James! Ray! St. James! 
Jiminy! Jiminy! Jiminy! 

Raaaaay! St. James! Durham! 

Chatham! Chatham! Chatham! ” 

/ 

Then came the answer from more than one 
hundred Chatham throats: 

“Ray! Ray! Ray! 

Siss! Siss! Siss! 

C. M. S.! C. M. S.! C. M. S.! 

St. James! St. James! St. James! 

Durham! ” 


“ Three cheers and a tiger for St. James Dur¬ 
ham ! ” thundered Johnny, and Chatham re¬ 
sponded with all its voice: 

“Hip! Hip! 

Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! 

Tiger! ” 


The St. James bugler sounded “ assembly.” 


3 i4 THE CADET SERGEANT 

The blue-coated battalion once again jumped 
into line. 

The Chatham bugler then brought Chatham 
without rifles to attention. Its cadets stood at 
battalion front on the west edge of the campus 
and faced across the vast green. Colonel 
Meadows took his position before the center of 
his line of boys. 

The St. James band struck up. The blue uni¬ 
formed column again was approaching and would 
pass before Chatham. 

“ Hand!—Salute! ” cried forth T. J. as St. 
James drew near. 

Every Chatham right hand came to the visor 
of every cadet cap. And this position was held 
while the St. James cadet corps at the salute 
from right shoulder arms passed by. Its long 
blue line was in columns of fours, its band played 
before them; its thin, bronzed Commandant was 
at its head. So it marched on down the campus 
to the pine-lined drive, and homeward over the 
Lewiston Road. 

That night a huge bonfire blazed on the lawn 
before the main building and Chatham sang a 
song of triumph which Johnny Hayes had com¬ 
posed for the occasion: 


FOR TITER, FIDELITER, FELICITER 3 x s 

u Hail to thee! Hail to thee! Greatest of Chatham 
guys! 

Doughty deeds always your muscles have won. 

Cleavers of thick skulls and crunchers of big thighs, 

May many years pass ere your wild race is runl ” 

Then Porky rose and roared: 

% 

“ Three cheers for Barclay and Angus! 

Hip! Hip! ” 

And the boys answered so that the sound 
crashed against the ivy-covered school in a bel¬ 
lowing echo. 

“What’s the matter with Barclay and An¬ 
gus ? ” called out the Porcupine. 

“ They’re all right! ” 

“ Who’s aH right? ” 

“ Barclay and Angus! ” 

All now knew of course of Porky’s work with 
Hiller’s father and that Bingo’s visit to Buffalo 
had finished what Porky had begun; that Case 
had confessed; and that Myron was vindicated. 

“ Fellows, I don’t need to say why,” called out 
Fred Barclay from the center of the crowd, “ but 
let’s give one more big cheer for Myron Angus! ” 

And it was given with tigers upon tigers at 
the end. 

Old House held a quick meeting in Atkins W’s 


3 i6 the CADET SERGEANT ' 

room just before “ tattoo ” ; and Myron was re¬ 
elected to membership. 

“ I tell you! I’m mighty glad you’re back, 
Myron! ” declared the Senior Captain earnestly. 

Myron smiled his happiness. “ So am I,” he 
replied. 

“ Angus, I think you should show these boys 
Hiller’s letter,” said T. J. a few minutes later as 
Myron, Schoharie, Porky, Johnny, Fatty, Fred, 
and a half-dozen other Old House men stood at 
the doorway of the Commandant’s room. 

Myron drew from his hip pocket the paper 
which Bingo had given him. “ Will you read it to 
them then, sir, please?” he asked, and handed 
the note to the Commandant. 

“ Dear Angus : ” read Colonel Meadows: 

“ I’ve told my dad everything. At first I 
didn’t dare tell, but now I’ve told him you never 
were with me. Case was almost always with me. 
I gave him slugs the day slugs were found in 
your alcove. I don’t know whether Case put 
them there. 

“I never gave you any slugs, Angus. Dad 
says the manly thing is to come here and face 
things out and face Case and ask your pardon. 
Please forgive me, will you? 

“ Thomas Hiller.” 

T. J. handed the letter back to Myron. “ Case 


FOR TITER, FI DELITER, FE LI Cl TER 317 

has confessed all to Colonel Crawford,” he com¬ 
mented. “ For Mr. Hiller, as soon as he really 
understood the entire situation, got his hoy to 
act. Case put those slugs in Angus’s alcove.” 

“ Oh, the-” Johnny stopped. “ Porky did 

do a lot of good then, sir,” he ended emphatically. 

“ Of course! ” 

“ Shucks! Don’t act foolish, John,” admon¬ 
ished the Porcupine. 

Not a word more from the boys for a moment, 
until Fatty asked, “ Will Hiller be back next 
year, sir? ” 

“ That’s doubtful,” responded T. J. “ It’s 
hardly necessary, either; he’ll make good some¬ 
where.” 

“What about Case then, sir?” asked Johnny 
wickedly. 

“Now why bring that up, Bonehead? ” put in 
Porky with a laugh in which all joined; for all 
were aware that Case had left school less than 
an hour before while the bonfire still blazed on 
the lawn and the songs and cheers of victory 
went heavenward. 

“ Just one thing more, please, sir.” It was 
Porky again. “I’m dead sure Case put those 
chocolates in Myron’s room that night, sir. I 



3 i8 the cadet sergeant 

forgot to ask Case. Did lie confess that, too, 
sir? ” 

“ Yes,” answered T. J. “ He admitted to the 
President that he put them there. He told 
Richards that Hiller had given them to Sergeant 
Angus. Presumably Case did it to turn sus¬ 
picion from himself if he should be caught in 
the lead-slug matter.” 

Two days after, on Monday, June 3rd, a tall, 
thin, gray-haired man stepped before the bat¬ 
talion line at Chapel formation. The Chatham 
Commandant brought the cadets to “ rest.” 

Colonel Crawford looked up and down the bat¬ 
talion a moment. He was smiling slightly and 
in his gray face a touch of red was rising. “ It 
is difficult to row a boat against the tide, gentle¬ 
men,” he began in his low even tones. “ It takes 
courage to go about one’s business with head 
high when things are going wrongly. I am sure 
you have all many times read in the School 
Catalog John Chatham’s letter written shortly 
after he founded this school. He gave us then 
as a motto: * Fortiter, Fideliter, Feliciter! 9 He 
thought that the highest qualities a man could 
develop were to live courageously, loyally, cheer¬ 
fully. To the cadet of this battalion who has 


FORTITER, FIDELITER, FELICITER 319 

come the nearest during the year to living up to 
the acme of these qualities should go the highest 
honor of the school. There is no question as to 
which boy should receive that honor now! ” 
Bingo paused; turned his head toward the right 
of the cadet line; then went on: “ Hence it is my 
pleasure to announce that the Senior Captain for 
next year will be Cadet Sergeant Myron Angus!” 

A moment’s silence; then it seemed that the 
Armory walls of old Chatham would crack from 
the cheers upon cheers which followed. 


THE END 



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